Wishing Upon the Golden Glow
by Miss of the Manor
Summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts, Hermione goes to her books to comfort her. In a startling discovery, she finds a hidden magical library. After a bit of research, Hermione discovers an ancient spell to send her back in time. Tempted by the possibilities of a better future, she creates a plan for defeating the Dark Lord. Uttering the final words of the spell, she tumbles through time.
1. The Glow of Gold

_With ringing ears and bloody palms the girl took across the field, cursing and jinxing every Death Eater she could. Time was running low, and if she couldn't make it back to the castle in time, it would all be over; everything they had worked for in the past year would be utterly decimated. Tick Tock, Tick Tock._

 _She ran even faster. She had to make it. She had to. Distantly she heard a cackle followed shortly by a high pitched scream. Fighting her will to turn, she continued to run straight ahead. Tick Tock._

 _Reaching up to wipe the gathering sweat from her brow, blood smeared across her forehead, the tick red liquid slowly dripping into her eyes, blinding her. Again the cackle sounded, now significantly closer. Tick Tock._

 _Risking a glance behind, she saw the object of her worst night terrors. Wild black ringlets, ferocious eyes glinting with madness, and a feral grin greeted her. Shuddering, she whipped her head back around, pumping her arms and legs even faster while muttering prayers under her breath. Tick Tock._

 _If there was some sort of deity, he certainly wasn't listening to her. The madwoman had caught up with her, and with a simple jinx the madwoman was able to tie down the girl. Tick Tock._

 _The girl risked a peek at the woman. The mad lady beamed maliciously at the girl, raising her wand. "Crucio". Tick Tock._

 _Unable to comprehend time through her pain, the girl layed there screaming until her throat could no longer take the strain, and her voice vanished. Her silent screams and the tear tracks that pierced through the thick layer of dirt and blood only incensed the woman. The woman again began her heinous shrieking. Tick Tock._

 _Finally the spell lifted, and the girl felt relief course through her body, until the madwoman began to raise the girl's sleeve. Her blood was icy as the woman continued to raise the fabric until the entirety of her scarred arm was displayed. The deranged psychopath started at the marred flesh before erupting into a twisted smile. Tick Tock._

 _Taking a knife concealed in the depths of her robes the woman began to carve into the girl's old wounds, tearing apart the still pink flesh. Her screams anewed, the girl sobbed away, begging for it to stop. Tick Tock._

 _The lady stepped away to admire her handiwork, her mouth forming an unhinged smirk. The girl only lay there, tears escaping down her face, clutching her bleeding arm. Tick Tock._

 _Minutes rushed by, one hour, then two. At some point her torturer left her, as for when, she didn't know. Tick Tock._

 _She had to get moving, she had to. Trembling, she turned her body over and began crawling in the direction she assumed the castle was. Tick Tock._

 _It was slow work, much to slow. She had to be more careful when navigating all the destruction left by the battle. Dead bodies were everywhere, some she recognized, some she did not. She wanted to mourn for them, but continued her crawl ahead. She must get to Harry. Tick Tock._

 _It was nearly an hour of her snail speed that she found him. Or rather, his body. Staring glassy eyed at his pale, unmoving corpse, she finally let herself greive. Grieve for Harry, grieve for Ron, for Ginny, for the Weasley family, for Luna, for Neville for everyone she cared about. She cried until the darkness overtook her consciousness and she fell over, exhausted. Tick Tock._

 **{The Glow of Gold}**

Hermione snapped out of her trance. Thinking of the battle never did any good.

A few months had passed since the end of it, and wizarding Britain was trying to rebuild. It was slow work, headed mainly by Kingsley Shacklebolt, one of the few surviving order members, well, one of the few surviving people of the war. Most everyone had died that day.

She herself would have too, if not for McGonagall finding her nearly dead body and nursing her back to health. She was in a fine condition now, however, her newly reopened scars weren't fairing so well. They were still a harsh red, and would, on occasion, still bleed.

But back to the ministry… They were currently rounding up all of the final death eaters they could; not that there were many left, and those were were still alive, weren't powerful enough to start uprising or hold out very long against a small team of decent aurors.

The world was becoming peaceful once more, and the people were beginning to hope again. The funerals for all those that died during the battle were over now, and with those not consuming her time, Hermione began to bore of sitting around, it left too much time to her memories, which would overtake her when given the opportunity.

That boredom it what spurred her to travel. Specifically, to travel to all the the great wizarding libraries in the world. Being heralded as a wartime hero, she was awarded a significant sum of money, enough that she would never need to work again if she chose to do so. That money was now paying for her world tour of libraries.

So far she had visited the 4 great libraries of Britain, and was now making her way through France. Having visited the libraries of Paris, the French Ministry, and Beauxbatons, she was slowly traveling her way down to Italy to start her wanderings there.

However, during a stop in a small French wizarding town, she felt prompted to put off her trip to Italy. After speaking with the locals, she was told of a rumor that there was a library hidden the lush woods of the Alps. Her curiosity spiked, she investigated the rumor before finding the source.

A small unassuming man who had just returned from a vacation in the French Alps had apparently seen the library. He was hiking through the mountains following the trails, but was distracted by a magical creature of some kind. What creature he couldn't say, but he could recall that it was about the size of his palm and glowed a golden hue. He swore that it was beckening to him, enticing him to follow it. Entranced by its beauty, he tore after it, the little creature flying quickly through the thick foliage.

He couldn't say for how long he was running, but when the golden creature stopped, he was in front of a massive set of ruins. Naturally, he went to investigate the strange place, finding it was a massive library. Well, it was a library at one point, at least. He could see the remains of old books, tattered by time, and the decayed wood that was once furniture.

When Hermione heard it was an ancient, _dead,_ library, she was disappointed. There would be nothing of value to her there. But the little man had one more thing to add before the end of his tale.

Apparently, at the very front of the library, there was a plaque that glowed the same gold as the creature that led him there. Upon closer inspection, there were ancient runes engraved upon it. Being no expert in runes, he couldn't decipher it, and thought to go locate an expert for assistance. So he left the library, and contacted an old friend of his who was an expert in runes, and together they set off to locate the library again. However, they never did, even after nearly 3 years of searching.

The diminutive man wrote it off as a hallucination on his part, and returned to this quiet village to tell his story to anyone who would listen.

Hermione knew better than to go chasing a simple myth, but something about his story called to her. She couldn't quite place it, but she wanted to try and find the ruins of the library, if they even existed. So after much deliberation, she gathered enough supplies for a year long trip through the wilderness, and took off for the Alps.

This brings the story to the present point. She had been searching for three months now, and is currently sitting in her tent, going over the meticulous notes she had gotten from the man.

She was frustrated and about to her wits end with searching for this library. She had been outside for a continuous three months now, and had had no avail in finding the library. Granted, she had packed for a year, but she didn't actually think that she would be searching for a year to find the stupid place.

She sighed, "I wonder if the place truly exists. It isn't really seeming so." Her quiet vocalization echoed throughout the magically enlarged tent. She was beginning to think it was time to give up. It _had_ been three months after all.

Resigned to head back to the village tomorrow morning, she stepped outside to clear hear mind. What she saw scared her out her skin. Right in front of her tent flap was a little golden glow. Her heart was beating out of her chest as she lurched forward to get a closer look at the creature.

Upon closer examination, she could make out little human features, and a pair of delicate golden wings. With a little gasp she realized it was a Faerie. Feeling a little tug at her mind, she heard a tinkling hum. Concentrating on that she was able to hear a tiny voice with startling clarity.

"Oh my, aren't you a powerful one… You can actually hear me speak to you. That is better than the last man I met." The voice was lilted and airy.

Hermione was shocked, standing before her was a magical creature that had not been seen since the beginning of Wizard History, and even then, sightings of Faeries were rare. Of course there were close relatives of the faeries, Cornish Pixies and such, but never the real thing. Even the greatest minds of the wizarding world thought them to be extinct several hundred years ago.

The voice laughed at Hermione's awe. "You had better pack up your supplies, I believe you are looking for the library, no?" The impish grin that followed on the Faeries face spurred Hermione into action, her camping sight cleaned up shortly thereafter.

The little light lazily began to fly through the thick forestry, hermione stumbling in tow. They traveled through the forest for a span of nearly 3 days, with only short breaks for Hermione to rest and eat before trudging onwards. It was on the third day they finally saw the ruins.

The sight that greeted them however, was not ruins, like Hermione was expecting. Rather, she found a building that was glowing with magical energy. Tall, white pillars of marble greeted her at the entrance, and a grand staircase of stone led up to the large wooden doors of the chateau-like building.

Noticing Hermione's expression, the faerie said, "It's quite grand, is it not? Although not what you were expecting…" The faerie flew up to the doors of the library and gave them a gentle push, exposing the book filled shelves of a room. "Welcome to the Library of the Lady, I am the protector of this place, Aria." The Faerie smiled again and beckoned Hermione inside.

Finding her voice for the first time in three days, Hermione began to ramble. "What is this place? Why did you appear to me? What is going on? How exactly did you find me? Aren't Faeries supposed to be extinct?"

Laughing again, the Faerie responded, "I cannot answer all of you questions, you must find them for yourself. However," she paused looking thoughtful, "I can tell you that Fairies are _not_ extinct."

Aria glanced at Hermione, "Why don't you take a look around. I am going to go and rest and eat to get my strength back. You are free to go anywhere that will allow you to enter." She winked at Hermione and flew through the library before disappearing behind a bookshelf.

Tentatively, Hermione began to walk into the library. Resting directly in front of her was the glowing plaque the man had told her was there. Taking a look at it, she couldn't decipher the meaning. It wasn't anything she had ever seen before. Looking at it for only a moment more, she continued her exploration.

A little further ahead was a map suspended on a large marble slate. Delicately, she touched a room on the map labeled in more runes she couldn't understand. A bright golden light erupted next to her, making a trail through the maze of book shelves. Curious as to where it went, Hermione followed the trail to a door. Turing the brass door knob revealed a bedroom.

Stepping inside, Hermione got the impression she should unpack her stuff here, and rest from her long journey. Not wanting to argue with the magic, and too tired to care, Hermione took out some pajamas, and got herself ready to sleep. Slumping onto the bed, she quickly succumbed to her exhaustion.

{The Glow of Gold}

Just a brief author's note: Thank You very much for reading this to the end of the chapter! This will be a time travel fanfiction, however, I need the first few chapters to set it up so Hermione will very much be in her original time for awhile yet. NOt to worry, she will be traveling to the past soon enough. I am hoping for this story to be on the somewhat longer side, so be aware that this might run for a long course. From the start, I don't know what the update schedule will be, however you can expect a chapter or so every week or two. As the story progresses, I am aiming to be able to update weekly on Fridays, but this is still T.B.A. Thank you again for reading!

Sincerely,

Miss of the Manor


	2. The Clear Glass Stone

Hermione blearily opened her eyes to see sunlight pouring through the floor to ceiling windows, casting a glow about the room. As beautiful as it was, she was still quite tired from the previous few days of traveling, so she rolled over and shut her eyes once more, letting out a contented sigh. This was the best sleep she had gotten since the battle. She stayed there for another 10 minutes, and just as she was dozing off, an uninvited visitor burst into the room.

"Miss, you best be getting up now." The Faerie, Aria, chittered in a sing song voice. It was grating to Hermione's ears. Aria continued, "I have much to explain to you today, and if you aren't up soon, you won't be able to get answers…" The corners of the little creature's mouth quirked up in a devious smirk.

Forgetting her previous exhaustion, Hermione pulled herself out of bed and stared expectantly at the Faerie.

Aria grinned at her, and floated over to a door in the corner of the room. She flicked her head toward the door saying, "This is the bathroom. You and it really need to become acquainted; you stink of the forest!" She tittered before adding, "Meet me outside this room when you are done."

Hermione only glared at the Faerie as she dragged herself to the bathroom and washed up.

A few minutes later Hermione was much cleaner, and as Aria would put it, 'familiarized with the bathroom'. Stepping outside the door, the impish face of Aria zoomed into view.

"Wonderful! Let's get started, there is much information I must impart upon you." Aria slowly began to fly forward through the mess of bookcases until both she and Hermione arrived at the main door. She suddenly whipped around to face Hermione.

"You are, as I said last night, at the Library of the Lady, and I am the protector of it." She stopped to look at Hermione, who was brimming with questions. But before Hermione could ask anything, she continued, "This library, much like your old school, is sentient. It's magic obscures itself from those it deems unworthy, and reveals itself to those it deems worthy."

Rather than clearing up Hermione's questioning, it is only adding to her confusion. So,she stayed silent waiting for the little Faerie to continue.

"To put this simply, Hermione, you have been called to this library. For what reason is unknown, but you have a task to be fulfilled, and this library is going to help you do it." Aria smiled at her gently, "The room you found last night is yours to stay in for the duration of your visit. Should you require anything, concentrate on that need, and it shall be realized."

After Aria finished her little talk, Hermione fell deep into thought. All of her questions swirled about in a maelstrom of chaos. She thought for a moment more before asking, " That plaque," she turned to look at the glowing object, "What is it, and why is it there?"

Aria sighed before flying towards it, delicately placing a hand down on it. "This plaque is the final creation of the creator of this library," her hand caressing the the swirling runes. "It is her magic that enchants this library, and her magic that called to you."

Hermione slowly approached the plaque and stared at the runes, trying to decode them. The swirling symbols were nothing like anything Hermione had seen before, and it frustrated her to no end that she couldn't understand them.

Aria seemed to notice her agitation, and said, "The runes are of her original design. She was the only one to ever be able to read it. However, she left clues around this place. The person who is able to find them all and decode the message will receive a great power." The little Faerie continued to peer down at the plaque, her face slowly drooping in sadness.

Shifting her gaze from the plaque, she noticed Aria's sudden downcast demeanour. Wondering the cause of her shift in attitude Hermione said, "You seem to know her, the creator, I mean…"

"Yes, I did know her…" The Faerie trailing her fingers across the plaque once again. She took a moment before continuing, "When I was a young Faerie, there were some Faerie hunters prowling through the forest my colony was living in. They took every single Faerie but me. I was devastated, and had nowhere to go with no idea of how to survive…" Aria's voice began to break, and little golden tears ran down her face, splashing against the plaque below her. "She found me a month later, emaciated, and on the verge of death. She took me in, and under her care, I became healthy again… She saved my life, and now I am here repaying her kindness."

Hermione was at a loss of words. Nothing she could think of would adequately provide solace and comfort for her winged companion, so she stood there waiting for Aria to continue.

A moment later Aria looked up from the plaque and dried her eyes. Once again chipper, she turned to face Hermione.

"Well there are more things to show you and we need to get through the first floor at least, so let's continue on, shall we?" She remarked and flew forward.

Hermione sensed that Aria wasn't completely happy again, and was putting on a facade for the sake of Hermione, but trying to be nice, she didn't bring it up again, and simply followed Aria to the next part of the library. They wondered down to the map Hermione had touched the night previous, and Aria stopped again turing to explain to girl.

"This is the map of the whole library. As you noticed last night, it is enchanted." She turned back to the map.

"By pressing on one of the rooms," she touched a room to adjacent to the one Hermione selected last night, "A golden path will lead you to that location."

True to Aria's words, a path of golden light appeared to lead them through the intricate network of books.

"How do I know which room is which? I cannot read the labels on the map."

Realization flitted across the winged creature's face. With a snap of her fingers the strange runes she had seen earlier vanished, and were slowly rewritten in a swirling English script.

"Better?"

"Much."

Aria beckoned Hermione to follow her down the path of light. They arrived in front of a quite plain door. Aria pushed slightly on it, and it swung open to reveal a sitting room with cushy couches and a fireplace against the far wall.

"There really isn't much to this room, but it is very comfortable, so you are welcome to use it in what way you desire." Aria stated.

It then occurred to Hermione that there were several floors on the map.

"Aria?"

The Faerie turned, looking expectantly at Hermione.

"Where are the stairs? I just recalled seeing multiple levels on the map.

Aria smirked, "That is something that I cannot tell you. The upper floors of this library contain more powerful and dangerous information the farther you go up. The library will decide if and when you can go to the next floor."

"When will I know the library will let me go up to the next floor?"

Aria floated to Hermione's shoulder and landed on it.

"The map will glow a bright white light signaling you have opened up a new area of the library."

Humming in understanding, Hermione turned out of the sitting room and attempted to get back through the book shelves to the main area. On her journey back she bumped her left arm against the sharp corner of a bookcase. Letting out a cry. Hermione grasped her lower arm.

Aria immediately flew down to see the cause of Hermione's pain.

Blood was beginning to leak through the thick fabric of her jumper, staining it and her hand red.

Aria tittered and zoomed away before returning only moments later with a vial of runny golden liquid. Getting Hermione to release her arm, Aria gently removed the bloody fabric covering the wound and gasped in horror.

Carved deep into her arm, was the word Mudblood..

Shaking with anger and shock Aria asked, "Who did this to you?"

"An evil witch." Was all Hermione managed to get out before she fell on the ground in pain.

Aria's face set in a grim line, got to work looking at the properties of the wound. With a little bit of luck and Fae magic she ascertained that the wound was inflicted via cursed knife imbued with malicious magic that would cause intense pain whenever it was agitated.

She opened the vial she ran off to get and poured it over Hermione's wound. In an instant her flesh began to knit itself back together, and in mere moments the wound vanished with the pain.

Hermione lifted her head to look at the Faerie.

"What was that?" The curly-haired girl asked in wonder. "My pain and the scar is completely gone…"

"An emulsion of my tears and a Phoenix's tears. It creates a powerful restorative elixir." She replied.

Hermione could only gape. The scar that she was plagued with was gone. A reminder of all the pain and terror she went through was erased.

Her voice trembled, "Thank you," she muttered quietly.

"Think nothing of it, let's continue on, yes?"

Hermione nodded.

A short bit of walking and flying later, the duo reached the map once more.

"I have some tasks to get done, the rest of the day is yours to have." Aria quipped and began to flutter away.

Hermione called after her, "Okay, thank you again…"

Aria nodded and continued on her path away.

Now alone, Hermione began to wonder the stacks. The library was massive, and contained more knowledge than she could even comprehend. Looking at the titles as she passed them made her giddy with joy. There were so few texts she had actually heard of, and even then, they were the most rare books in existence. During her wanderings, she felt a small bit of magic tug at her consciousness. Following the pull she was directed to a certain shelf of books. Reaching up to grab one, she halted. There was still some leftover blood on her skin and clothing. Quickly muttering a cleaning charm the blood from her skin was gone, and with a slicing charm she cut of the sleeve of her jumper then vanished it.

Her eyes went back to the bookshelf, her hand skimming the spines of the tomes. Her finger stopped their exploration on a particular title. Grasping the book, she pulled it off the shelf and looked for a title only to find the same red leather the book was bound in stare back at her.

"No title…" she wondered aloud.

She opened the front page of the book to see large loopy penmanship. Skimming the contents told her it was a journal entry.

Puzzled she thought, "What use do I have of a journal? Why did the library want me to pick up this book?"

Absentmindedly, she meandered her way to a nearby couch on plopped herself down upon it. Gazing at the book again, she started to leaf through it. The rest of the pages were very much like the first one; all diary entries. Intrigued, Hermione went back to the beginning and commenced to read the book page by page. There must be some reason the library would prompt her to grab this book out of all the ancient writings available in the vicinity.

As Hermione read on, she found that the journal really was't as interesting as she was hoping it might be. In fact, the contents of it were quite mundane; there was only the recourse of the writer's days, and other such trivial matters. Her brain was begging to wander away from the book, but she stubbornly pulled it back to the mind-numbing contents. She told herself that as she finished the next entry she could go and find more interesting materials to occupy her time. However, she was finding it incredibly difficult to stay awake. Drowsiness was pulling at her consciousness. Ever so slightly, she began a descent into the dreamworld,the red book still lying open on her chest.

{The Clear Glass Stone}

 _Tick Tock, Tick Tock…_

 _Hermione was slowly roused by the sound of a clock ticking away in the distance. As she opened her eyes, she noticed she was laying on a plush carpeted ground. Panic was creeping into her system, and in the quietness of the space she could hear the blood rushing through her veins. Standing up as quickly as she could, she looked for a place to hide. Spotting a wardrobe, she scrambled across the floor to get inside._

 _Just as she made it inside and closed the doors all but a crack, footsteps could be heard coming towards the room. Sending a silent prayer to anyone who was listening, she sincerely hoped the footsteps would pass the room she was hiding in._

 _Naturally, fate was not on her side, and the footsteps stopped; the door to the room was opened. Presumably, the owner of the footsteps was now in the room, but with the plush flooring Hermione couldn't be entirely sure. The adrenaline in her system reached all time highs when she peaked out the crack between the wardrobe doors and found a woman sitting at a desk across the room._

 _Squeezing her eyes shut, Hermione willed herself to calm down, then opened them to observe the woman more closely. She was a quite diminuative lady, long silvery blonde hair atop her head. She seemed to be writing something. Glancing down_ _more intently_ _at the item she was writing in revealed an oddly familiar shade of red leather. Finished with whatever she was jotting down, the woman closed to book and moved to open a side drawer of her desk. Reaching inside, she pulled out a little white stone and set it on top of the red tome. She grabbed the wand that was secured at her waist and tapped the stone with the tip of it mummering an incantation Hermione couldn't recognize. The stone glowed a bright blue for nearly 5 minutes before fading away to reveal a now clear stone._

 _The lady again opened the tome, and placed the clear stone atop the words she had written mere minutes before. Rubbing the glass-like rock against the words, she made her way down the page rubbing and muttering a chant of words unknown to Hermione. Gradually the words on the page disappeared leaving the parchment as clean as it had been moments ago. The long haired woman plucked up her quill and begun to write on the clean page. The white surface once again filled with loopy and curvy handwriting, and the woman let out a small sigh. Once she finished, the still clear stone was placed on the page, and as the lady tapped it with her wand, the room was filled with a bright glow. When the blinding light dissipated, the stone had returned to its original white shade; the words on the parchment remained._

 _The woman now finished with her task, relaxed against the chair and took a deep breath. Standing up, she quickly turned and stared right at the crack in the wardrobe doors. The last thing Hermione saw was a pair pale green eyes staring at her, piercing through her to the very soul._

{The Clear Glass Stone}

Ah wow! I wasn't planning on posting a new chapter until tomorrow, however, after seeing the amount of views and comments I felt compelled to update! You all are really amazing, and all of the comments you left were so uplifting and encouraging! Thank you for that! Anyway, please comment what you think so far, and any improvements you think I could make. I love to see comments that help me to improve my writing skills and the story! As a quick side note, I do plan on addressing Hermione's reaction to the death of all her friends, but right now my primary focus is getting the storyline progressing. It is moving at a very slow pace as I am getting everything set up, but I have plans of addressing the more mature part of what Hermione faced during the war in later chapters.

Sincerely,

Miss of the Manor


	3. The Call of the Solitary Opus

Hermione's eyes shot open, and she struggled to catch her breath. She could feel the blood pumping through her veins, and every miniscule twitch of her muscles.

"What was that?" She wondered to herself.

The dream she just came out of was still vivid in her mind, every detail she could recall with precision, down to the very eyelashes of the strange woman. Her muscles still shuddering, she thought back on the dream. It seemed to have been a place that was well kept, if the plush flooring was anything to go by, and the furniture was high quality, so the owner of the place must have been wealthy. Inside the actual wardrobe, the clothing felt incredibly soft against the skin that touched it. All of the details seemed to be pointing towards an incredibly affluent person owning the place. But the important part of her vision wasn't the place in which it occurred, but rather what happened there. There was a strange woman, in strange clothing, hiding something in that journal.

Hermione turned attention to the innocent looking book that fell to the floor when she woke up. It was most definitely the same book as in the dream; the same scarlet leather, although now it looked more weathered by time, the pages more yellow than the crisp white she remembered.

Taking a shuddering breath she reached down to pick up the book. Hesitantly, she grasped the old tome, bringing it up closer to her face to observe it. Before this point, she hadn't been all too interested in the cover; the only peculiar thing about it was the lack of a title, but that didn't pique her curiosity much, that is, until now. Upon closer inspection, she saw very faint silvery lines and curves running across the cover of the book. Squinting at the faded manuscript she saw a familiar scrawl. Letting out a tiny gasp, she bolted across the library skidding around the corners of the book maze, finally rounding around the final corner until she reached the front hall. She slowed to a walk, and glided in anticipation toward to plaque in the middle of the room. It glimmered as she drew nearer. Almost in a daze, she let her free hand touch the plaque. A burst of magic flowed through her, electifying her insides, making her buzz with power. Gasping she drew her hand away, and brought it to her face to examine it.

"What…"

She tore her gaze from her hand to look at the book she still carried. It had a very faint glow about it. Suddenly, an idea struck Hermione. Quickly she flipped through the pages of the book, skimming the pages, hoping to find one that stood out against the rest. Near the end of the tome she grinned in triumph, one of the pages contained glowing golden writing.

"This has to be it. This has to be the page she was writing on…" Hermione said to herself.

 **{The Call of the Solitary Opus}**

 _Up in the rafters, unbeknownst to Hermione a was a certain winged Faerie, observing Hermione. For just a moment the little creature's golden eyes changed to the palest green imaginable, However, just as soon as they changed green, they were back to her normal gold, She shook her head, suddenly feeling dizzy. She flew off not long after, promising herself to go lay down for awhile._

 **{The Call of the Solitary Opus}**

Back at the plaque, Hermione's thoughts whirled around her head. She thought back to the clues Aria told her; she was certain that this was one of them. In the back of her mind, she also suspected that the lady she had seen was the same one who created this library, and by extension the one who created the plaque in front of her. Hermione turned her attention back to the page with glowing letters. Reading through the entry on that page proved nothing useful, it was the same as the rest of the book; mundane and inconsequential accounts of each day's proceedings.

"There must be something I am missing here," she thought to herself, biting her lip, reading through the text one more time, hoping to glean just a bit more information. She cursed when nothing else showed up after going through it a second time, a third time, and a fourth time. She pulled out her wand conjuring a place marker for her current page in the book. Staring once more at the plaque, she walked passed it and back to her room. She got there and placed the book down on the table next to her bed.

Casting a quick tempus, she didn't realize how much time had passed that day, as it was now 10:00. Finally finished with all of the excitement, and nothing to keep her preoccupied, her stomach let out a loud howl. Sighing, she thought of the tantalizing food at Hogwarts. She closed her eyes imagining it, she thought of it so vividly she was positive she could practically smell it. Wait… she actually could smell it. Opening her eyes, she saw the plate of fresh Hogwarts food on a table in the center of the room. Wonder flowed through her system.

"It wasn't possible to conjure food from nothing, so where was this coming from?" She thought to herself.

She didn't ponder too much longer, as her stomach let out another loud growl; she gave into the temptation, and went over to the food, beginning to eat slowly, savoring the meal. It wasn't too long later that she felt the after effects of not eating much for months on end. Her stomach was still quite small from her time on the run, and she had a hard time filling herself with a substantial amount of _anything_. Sighing she vanished the plate of food and turned back to the bed, her thoughts focused on the war. Little tears slipped down her cheeks at the memories that threatened to overwhelm her. All of her friends that had died… it still hurt to think about them months after the end of the battle.

Most of the time she is able to push those thoughts from her head by keeping herself busy; her mind occupied by other things. But it was during these quiet moments that all her memories of them rushed back. Letting out a strangled whimper the memories overwhelmed her completely, causing her to fall to the bed, blacked out.

When Hermione awoke, it was once again light outside; her head hurt from the remembrance of the repressed memories. Going over to the wardrobe she plucked her beaded bag from the knob and summoned a calming draught from its depths. Uncorking the vial, she downed the entire elixir in three mouthfuls. Her mind screamed that she shouldn't overuse the potion, as it would eventually dull the effects, but she didn't care. She needed to calm down, to push away the memories that haunted her. Her body stayed tense until the effects of the the brew finally took over. She was left feeling light, and not at all worried about her dreams nor her memories. Again, she summoned a vile from her bag. This time the bottle held silvery thread-like strings floating in a clear liquid. Pointing at her head, she pulled out the memories of last night's terrors, leaving only a whisper of her dreams remaining. She guided the memory threads to the vial and deposited them into it, recorking the top. Replacing the flask in her bag, she started to get ready for another long day in the library.

When she was finished she wished for a breakfast of toast and pumpkin juice. She nibbled on the toast managing to finish two slices, then sipped on the pumpkin juice until it was gone. Satisfied with her progress in eating, she ventured out into the library, red book in hand. Making her way through the library proved to be less difficult today, probably from her wanderings of yesterday, and she was able to locate the shelf she found the book on. In an effort to lean more about the lady of her dreams, she searched the surrounding cases but found nothing even remotely similar. All of the books in this section of the library were about age magic; spells, potions, jinxes- everything having to do with age and nothing having to do with journals, or this mysterious witch. Frustrated, she went and sat on the couch she occupied yesterday.

She sat there thinking about the most logical place to look at next. Only one thought ran across her mind, "Possibly illusory or dream magic…" Making her decision, she started a search to find a section contain those types of magic. Luckily for her, she was able to find a few shelfs quite quickly. She grabbed all she could and put them down on the nearest table before seating herself on a matching chair. Hermione proceeded to grab the nearest title and settled herself in the chair for a day of researching exactly what spell might have been used on her. That is how she spent her next week- reading, only taking breaks for food and sleeping, and the occasional occurrence of Aria showing up to check on her.

The end of the week found Hermione storming in her room, throwing the occasional murderous glare at the journal sitting innocently on her bed. She had spent the _whole_ week reading the _entire_ dream and illusory section, only to find absolutely nothing. Not even a brief mention of the theory of what _could have_ happened to her. Her hair was starting to spark just thinking about it. She didn't know where to look next. Taking a deep breath, she placated her emotions.

In that moment, Aria decided to pay a visit. Hermione didn't seem to notice, in fact, she went back to raging about the book, not fully reaining command of her feelings. Aria let out a little cough to get Hermione's attention.

"You know, that really isn't a conductive way of searching for what to do next." She said blithely. " I would recommend taking a walk around the library grounds. You have shut yourself in this past week, and really, " she glanced at the state of Hermione's hair, " _really_ need to get out." She finished.

Hermione only glared at the Faerie, who then threw her hands up and flew out, not wanting to deal with the vituperative attitude of the girl. She collapsed on a chair, her chest heaving from her emotions. Sitting there for a few moments she willed her mind into a state of level headedness; her frustration was going to get her nowhere. She decided that Aria was probably right; she did need to go out for some air.

A few steps later and she was outside breathing in the fresh air of the French Alps. Now that she wasn't completely absorbed in books, or nervousness, she was able to admire the beauty of the place she was staying in. It was a tall white chateau, with marble inlays, and gold trimmings, and although it wasn't falling into shambles, the style gave away its ancient history. Further exploration of the grounds revealed some little outcroppings of buildings built in the same manner as the chateau- white marble and gold trim.

Stepping inside one of the larger buildings revealed a potions lab. Her interest piqued, she examined the building more. Every cauldron imaginable was here. Gold, silver, iron, pewter, even cauldrons of magical alloys were present. In a closet, there were all sorts of potions ingredients, all of them impeccably preserved in glass jars, sealed by magic. Some potion ingredients, though not all, become more potent after aging. From the looks of some of these jars, the ingredients were ancient. She exited the building after finishing her little tour feeling much better than before. She went back to the main building with a happy smile on her face, and a skip in her step.

Aria, who was sitting nearby in a tree, was glad to see her exuberant attitude. Much more preferable than her anger this morning.

Hermione walked back into the library, and found herself at the map. A shocked yet pleased smile found her mouth. It was glowing a bright white light, meaning she had 'found' a new area of the library. She touched the map gently, and the light faded to reveal a staircase in the back right of the building. Her body buzzed with excitement, and it took everything in her to not rush towards the stairs with reckless abandon. She took wide, fast steps through the room, making to the staircase in no time, then proceed to climb the case in two, and sometimes three, steps at a time. Utilizing that method, she reached the top nearly instantaneously.

A whole plethora of books greeted her on the next floor. She stared at them breathlessly. It was as grand as the ground floor, and the books here even older than those on the ground floor. It made her dizzy with anticipation… the amount of knowledge literally only a footstep away… it was hard not to feel jittery.

Moving through the floor of bookcases, she brushed her hand against the spines of the books, feeling their old covers calm her nerves.

Suddenly, she felt that insistent tug at her soul. It was calling her to a certain place, a place that would contain more answers to her questions. Hermione closed her eyes, and surrendered to the pull of the magic, letting it guide her through the mess of stacks and to a secluded corner of the library. She opened her eyes when she felt the magic had led her to the location, revealing a pumpkin orange tome embedded in the wall. The longer she looked at it, the more the magic compelled her to move forward to grab for the book. In a trance she reached her hand forward and wiggled the book out of the wall, struggling only slightly to free it from its stony confines.

Book now in hand she stumbled for the nearest couch to read through its contents. Once more, just like the red journal, this orange book was fraught with mundane and dull entries, however Hermione didn't let this dissuade her from reading it. In fact, it had rather the opposite effect, urging her to read on, plowing through the accounts. When she got to the near end of the book, she felt a tidal wave magic wash over her body, and found herself falling into inky darkness.

 **{The Call of the Solitary Opus}**

I am so impressed with how many people are reading this story, because honestly, sometimes, I feel as though my writing is only sub par, so all this support really means a lot to me. Please make sure you comment or PM me about ways I can improve my writing, so that I can get better, and everyone can enjoy this story more. As another side note, would you all like to see longer chapters with less frequent updates, or shorter chapters with more frequent updates? I am currently doing a shorter chapter and updating more often, but I want to know what everyone else is thinking in that regard. Thank you all again for reading!

Sincerely,

Miss of the Manor


	4. The Archaic Hinterland

_After her descent into darkness, Hermione awoke in a dirty alleyway. Confusion ran through her system. She was expecting the same room she first arrived at, not this dirty place. Slowly picking herself up and dusting all the grime she could off her clothing, she peaked her head around the corner of a building. A lively town square greeted her. Observing for another few moments, she noticed there was a large fountain in the center of the area, and slightly behind that… Her blood turned to ice. Behind the stone fountain there were torture devices, specifically devices to weed out witches. Panicking she quickly tore her head back around the corner of the building. Her breathing was beginning to escalate, and she could feel the beginning of an anxiety attack. Quickly she reigned in her erratic breath, knowing that breaking down here would be far worse than any other alternative._

 _First thing, she needed to find better cover. Currently, she was very much on display, and it left her vulnerable to attacks. A few ideas crossed her mind, but she eventually decided on hiding in plain sight. She tranfigured her clothing to fit in that of what she saw on the streets, secured her wand, and crept out of the little alleyway into the main square area._

 _It was astounding how busy the place was considering the town seemed to be quite meager and provincial. Hermione attuned her ears to the chattering of passer byers, needing to gain some information. She still wasn't all that sure that they could see her, but she didn't want to take any chances. Her gaze drifted back to the torture devices only feet away. She repressed a shudder and went to the base of the fountain, feigning to observe it._

 _Using the fountain as cover, she listened in to the chatters of the people again. Amidst the mundane, there were faint whisperings of a witch. Her heart started its fitful flutter again. They couldn't possibly be talking about her. Her fingers and toes started to go numb thinking about her possible impending death. She hastily pulled herself together. She'd only arrived mere minutes before now; there was no possible way for the witch to be her. She told this to herself, but the fear remained a presence at the back of her mind. Her inner battle was interrupted when a boy, looking to be about her age, started to speak to her her._

" _Miss, Miss, are you alright?" The boy looked questioningly at her._

 _After she got over her alarm at him approaching her, she supposed she looked rather odd, staring trasfixiedly at a fountain for what was most likely more than a few minutes. Normal people didn't usually do that she mused. Seeing he was expecting a reply, she responded, "Ah, yes, I merely got caught in my thoughts…"_

 _He stared at her sympathetically, "Ah yes, you must have heard of the witch who was caught and got away. Many of the women have been a bit jittery since then, but not to worry fair lady, us men will find her and burn her for her evil abominations."_

 _She gulped, and plastered a fake smile on her face. "Ah that puts my nerves to rest. I am glad such capable men are handling this situation." She decided to try and lay some charm to see if he would give her any extra information._

 _It was seemingly effective as a proud smirk stretched its way across his face. "Yes, we are headed out in only an hour's time at the south edge of the village," he boasted. "I hope upon my return, I may be blessed by the chance to encounter your beauty once more, fair maiden?"_

 _Hermione blanched, but put on a pleased grin nonetheless, "Yes, I would be delighted, I will meet you here?"_

" _Yes. Farewell, my fair maiden. I have many more preparations to make before we take off for the witch!" He grabbed her hand, placed a hurried kiss on it, and ran off before she could react._

 _Hermione watched as he left, her hand feeling slimy, and not at all clean where he touched. Wiping it on the back of her dress, she wandered off the opposite way the boy had run, wanting to get as far away as possible from him. As she walked through the square, and down the street, she thought on her previous conversation with the boy. That witch, she was somehow related with the lady she saw in Hermione's dream, she was certain of it. Resolving her mind, she made the decision to follow the men who were going to hunt the witch down. Now all she had to do was kill an hour of time until the men left. She also realized that the boy talking to her answered a question; people could see and interact with her, meaning, this was no ordinary dream._

 _Shaking that thought away, Hermione focused on navigating her way to the south end of the village, where the men would be leaving soon._

 _Upon her arrival, she hid away behind a cluster of buildings, disillusioning herself, waiting for the departure time. Slowly, men gathered together; some with horses, some with torches, some with pitchforks, all burning with fear and hatred of the witch. In the group of men, she noted the presence of the boy she talked with. Letting an expression of displeasure cross her features, she focused in on waiting for them to leave._

 _One particularly burly man on a horse began speaking to the gathered group. His fat face jiggled with every cry, exhort, and declaration shouted at the group. Disgust entered Hermione's system, and she couldn't help but gag at the nauseating sight of the man. Eventually he finished his speech and they men gave out a final cry and surged forward. Welcoming the change of events, Hermione trailed behind them, careful to not step on anything loud in the thick even if she did step on anything, she doubted they would notice over the cacophony they were making. And they thought they would be able to catch a witch! Ha, they would barely be able to catch a bunny like this._

 _The men trampled through the forest for what felt like hours. Eventually they gave up, and stomped back toward the town. Hermione didn't follow. After the presence of the men was completely gone, a lone figure appeared in a clearing up ahead. Platinum blonde hair stood out against the deep green of her dress. Hermione hid behind a nearby tree and peered at the familiar woman. The lady pulled out an orange book from the depths of her dress, and summoned a quill. She sat on a tree stump in the center of the clearing, and proceeded to fill up a blank page in the journal with her elegant scrawl. The the book and quill in her lap, the woman's hand disappeared into her raiments once again before reappearing with a certain white-as-snow stone. As the same with the rose colored journal, she placed the stone on the book and tapped her wand against the top of the object. The stone began emitting the blue glow, and as it faded the crystal clear stone was revealed. She again caressed the words in the journal with the stone, muttering an incantation. The words vanished, just as before. She grabbed the quill and filled the parchment, finishing with the spell to return the stone to white._

 _The lady closed the book and hid it and the stone in her dress, then vanished the quill, and returned her wand to the hoster at her hip. Turning slightly to her right, she focused her gaze on Hermione. Hermione felt her world go black, and began her voyage through the obsidian waters to return home._

 **{The Archaic Hinterland}**

Hermione awoke in the library, on the same couch she was on before. IN her lap the orange book lay still opened to the last page she had read. Wanting to address her suspicions, she plucked the book from her lap and strode to the stairs to return to the main floor for the sole purpose of going to the plaque. As she drew near to it, a trance overcame her, and she was compelled to touch the plaque as before. Her hand reached the golden objet, and magic flooded her system. She snached har hand away, feeling the magic almost consume her, and turned her gaze to the book. As expected the writing was glowing and golden, not black like it was upstairs. Feeling triumphant, she conjured a place marker and settled it in the book, closing it when she was done.

Smiling and bounding back to her room, she thought over her dream. This time she was certain that her disappearance from the library, and appearance in the dream world, was somehow associated with the page with golden writing. She was also certain that that page was the very same one the blonde haired witch was writing on in the visions. It was likewise made clear that people in the dream could interact with her, and she them. As to why, she hadn't the foggiest. The biggest thing she couldn't understand was why she didn't appear straight to the lady like the first time; it didn't make any sense. Logically speaking, she should have appeared only minutes before the lady arrived. Then again, she had never encountered a time that magic was logical. As she puzzled the vision, she made it to her room and entered inside. There she took the red book from her bedside table and placed it and the orange one side by side. They both held the same cover decoration- faint silver runes that were barely seen unless they were being searched for. Comparing both encounters, it was obvious the stone was the key to unlocking the mystery. It had appeared in both visions, and played a central role in each. The cornerstone for solving the mystery was going to be the stone, however, Hermione had a sneaking suspicion that the lady wasn't quite done done with her yet; wasn't quite ready for her to discover the truth. Something in her said she still had much to learn and see before she would even be able to start searching for the stone.

Firming her resolve, she made a plan for the next day. She needed to find the rest of the books, if there were any. After that happened, she had a feeling that she would be able to get the stone. Meanwhile, she was going to research as much as she could here, until the library sees fit to reveal the location of the next book.

Suddenly feeling very tired, she crawled into bed, and fell into a dreamless sleep.

 **{The Archaic Hinterland}**

The next morning Hermione sought to find Aria. She found the little Faerie outside in the lavish gardens, healing sickly looking flowers, and vanishing weeds. When she noticed Hermione approaching her she flew up to greet her.

"Hello Hermione, how are you feeling today? Not too angry I hope?" The little Faerie gave a good-natured smile, and laughed when Hermione chuckled.

"Yes, I am feeling well, much better than yesterday," Hermione grinned thinking of her testy attitude the day previous. "But I do have a question to ask you," Hermione continued more seriously.

Aria instantly sobered up listening intently.

"You see, I have been curious… Is there a small muggle town around here somewhere I-" Hermione cut herself off before she finished. For some reason, she felt she needed to keep her discoveries of the journals and visions a secret.

Aria interrupted her train of thought, "You what?"

Hermione thought quickly and replied to the golden Faerie, "Ah, it's nothing, I am just curious if there are any settlements around here. I wouldn't want to be wandering the forest and have a muggle find me…" She trailed off at the end, not entirely sure where she was going with that lie.

Aria didn't look too convinced, but didn't push the matter. "Well," she started, "there is. But," she added quickly when Hermione perked up, "you must be very, very careful if you are wanting to visit there. The townspeople still believe in witches because of something that happened there centuries ago."

Hermione was elated, and was about to rush out of the gates of the library, but a thought popped into her head that made her stop. She turned toward Aria and asked, " I will still be able to come back if I leave for the town, right?"

Hermione didn't want to leave if she wouldn't be able to come back because there was still more she wanted to do and see at this place; There was still too much to discover.

The little Faerie smiled, "Yes, you will."

Hearing that news she turned to leave again but heard a little cough behind her. She stared back expectantly at the winged creature.

Aria rose a brow at her before saying, "Aren't you forgetting something?"

At Hermione's blank look the Faerie continued, "In order to get there and back take this…" Aria reached into her tiny pocket and pulled out a glowing sphere the size of Hermione's fingernail. "All you need to do is tell the sphere where to take you, and it will leave a trail of magic for you to follow. And before you ask," Aria said before Hermione could interject, "it cannot be seen by anyone but you."

Thanking the little Faerie, Hermine flew out the gates, ready to get some answers in the town.

 **{The Archaic Hinterland}**

Thank you all so much for reading! I am so excited for this story to get started, and it will in the next few chapters, I promise, but until then, thank you for putting up with the beginning! I am going to try and update every other day or so, because my chapters aren't super long, so you can expect another chapter really soon! Thank you again!

Sincerely,

Miss of the Manor


	5. The Progeny of the Lady

Grumbling, Hermione trudged through the forest and back to the library. While the town was quaint and old, there was no information to be had there. It was an utter waste of a trip. Back at the marble steps, she stomped up them and through stacks until she reached her room, and flung herself on the bed. It was late now, well past midnight, but Hermione's mind couldn't seem to rest. Sighing, she got out of bed and decided to take a stroll around the library. She cast a quick lumos and made her way to the front hall, where to her utter delight, she found there was no need for her wand's light; the map gave off a glow bright enough to flood the entire room in a bright white sea of shining splendor.

Hastily, she ran forward to touch the map, which revealed another section to the second floor. She followed the light up the stairway, through a hallway, and to a door. She pushed open the door, and found the magic stopped there. Disappointment overwhelmed her system, but was quickly replaced with a tingling feeling in her soul. _She was close again._ The middle of the room is where her magic was pulling to, so she complied. Getting down on her knees, she carefully moved loose floorboards aside. There nestled amongst the stone was a velvet package. She picked up the package gingerly, unsure of its contents.

She lay the velvety bundle on a patch of the untouched flooring, and opened it up to reveal two books; one yellow, and the other purple. She was surprised, though not in an unpleasant way. It was shocking to see two books in wait for her, not just one.

Hermione was confident that like the rest, these would also bring strange dreams to her later that day. All she had to do was go find a comfortable piece of furniture to fall asleep on. Having done this twice before, she decided to go to her bed to start her readings. Much like the previous encounters, she fell into misty darkness.

 **{The Progeny of the Lady}**

 _Hermione awoke with a start. This time she was deep in a forest; light was filtering through the trees casting a comfortable glow about. She glanced around. No one seemed to be there. Sighing, she sat down on a log, deciding to get comfortable- there was no telling how long she would be stuck there. Luckily, it seemed fate was on her side and she heard some shuffling around in the foliage. Disillusioning herself, she crept into the nearby trees to investigate._

 _She found two men, both middle aged, one thin as a beanpole, the other with a protruding belly. Both had greasy hair and oily faces. Glancing at the entire entity of them was revolting. Repressing a shudder, she focused her hearing onto the hushed conversation of the men._

 _She couldn't hear them perfectly, but what could be made out was distressing_

" _They ought to be around here somewhere… This is where that whelp said she saw them," The fat man hissed. With each word he said, saliva seemed to make its way through his pencil thin lips, spreading the vile fluid as droplets in the air._

 _It seemed disgusting men were just a part of this strange dream place._

" _I already know it!" The green bean of a person gowled back. "They should be here!" Looks of frustration were evident upon their faces, as they slunk deeper into the forest._

 _Making a quick decision, Hermione trailed them from a distance. They had no idea where they were going, as illustrated by them wandering almost drunkenly through the untamed brush. Finally, something caught the fat man's eye; he hit his companion on the shoulder an pointed to something further ahead. Hermione couldn't make out much, but the looks on the faces of the men told her everything she had to know- they had found their target._

 _Suddenly uncaring of them discovering her, she ran forward to see what they were so excited about. Her gut was telling her it couldn't be anything good._

 _She was right; lying right in front of her was a small village of Faeries._

 _Hermione's hand flew over her mouth to contain her gasp. They vile, revolting men in front of her were Faerie Hunters. They were disgusting pieces of work- hunting a creature that only wants to help people (well for the most part… some types of Faeries were very mischievous). Even so, these men should not be aiming to capture these Faeries, it was wrong!_

 _She thought this, and yet she stood there frozen, unable to move as these monstrous men destroyed the settlement of Faeries, taking them captive, and procuring the rare potion ingredients from the little creatures. The men let out a laugh when they finished, and walked away with large bags and cages full of Faeries._

 _She fell down to her knees in shock of the events that occured for the past two hours. Events that she could have prevented if she would have acted when she saw what they were doing. She sat there awhile, not entirely sure of what to do next. Hermione slowly drifted off into darkness._

 _When Hermione awoke again she felt extremely dizzy. Everything around her seemed to be warped strangely too, it was almost as if she was trapped within a bubble. It was nearly dusk she noticed, and in the distance a figure approached the ruins of the Faerie settlement. Startled by the footsteps, Hermione broke away from the daze that had overcome her mind. Unsurprisingly, the figure was the same as her previous dreams- tiny and strikingly blonde. She too seemed troubled by the Faerie village sitting in rubble. The lady, who had a considerable amount more courage than Hermione at the moment, bent down to observe the area more closely. Her dainty gasp scared Hermione out of her jumper_

 _The lady reached her hand into the largest of the small houses. She gingerly pulled out her hand, and inside it lay a Faerie, deathly thin, and her glow barely tangible._

 _It only took Hermione a minute to figure out that the Faerie in the lady's hand was Aria. It was such a devastating sight to behold. The little creature that Hermione had come to care about so much was very obviously on the verge of death. Hermione closed her eyes, suddenly unable to stand the sight anymore._

 _When she opened her eyes back up, she noticed the scenery had changed, and she was in the library's main hall. It was puzzling to her. It hadn't felt like she had left the dream world yet. Looking again, she noticed the absence of the plaque and realized she indeed hadn't left the vision yet. Moving deeper into the library she heard some soft tinkling come from a room to her left. Carefully she glanced into the room and found the blonde haired lady taking care of Aria, who looked to be doing much better. Hermione was relieved._

 _The scene around her started to fade rapidly and she found herself in a different place of the library, once again with bubble vision. Moving ehr head to the side she almost screamed. Only centimeters away was the strange woman and Aria playing a game of gobstones. Hermione began to freak out mentally immediately- as established in her previous dream people could see her, and she did not want to be seen by this person. At all. Ever._

 _But the lady and Aria only continued their game; it was like they hadn't even noticed Hermione standing right next to them. It was only a second before the scene again changed and Hermione was transported away. With open eyes she saw a plethora of interactions between Aria and the odd woman , all gone in the blink of an eye. Finally the changing and fading of places stopped and was replaced with the almost comforting blackness of a moonless night._

 **{The Progeny of the Lady}  
**

Hermione woke up in her bed, just where she fell into the dream. It was a startling one in the very least. It had been confirmed that the strange lady she had been seeing was indeed the very Lady the library was named after, and the creator of the mysterious plaque. On a more gruesome note, she saw how Aria came into the Lady's care. It was horrific. More so than she even imagined. Deciding not to dwell on it much longer she grabbed all the books she had gathered so far and went to the plaque. As before the plaque began glowing, however this time it was more intense than normal. It was nearly blinding, in fact.

Hermione felt the familiar hum of magic flowing through her veins, rushing from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. As marvellous as all that magic was, Hermione had an inkling she wasn't quite done yet. There was still books to be found, she could feel it. That she was sure of. Sighing, she retrieved the books and placed them back in her room.

With nothing to do, and no leads as to where the next book, or even books, may be she was stuck, and as entertaining as the library was, there wasn't much right now that would be able to tear her mind out of the strange journals and accompanying dreams. She couldn't just sit around though, Hermione Granger does not sit around. With a mentality of finality and determination, she decided to look around the library a bit more, though it may not keep her attention long. Plus, she might find some information about the mysterious Lady. It wasn't going to be fast, but at least it was something.

 **{The Progeny of the Lady}**

Four hours later, and forty-five bookshelves browsed, and there was nothing that even remotely caught her interest. Not one thing! To think a library of this stature with texts rarer than Faeries themselves! And there was nothing! It left Hermione feeling rather indignant. Worn out by combing through so many books, she was ready to retire to her rooms for a third time that day, but in the corner of her eye a book caught her attention.

It didn't call to her, not like the journals did, but there was something about it that screamed importance. The tome was old, ancient really, and the brown cover had no embellishment nor title. That seemed to be a rather common theme for the library though, so she shouldn't be all that surprised. Opening up the first page of the book, Hermione noticed that she could understand most of the writing- to her great relief. No doubt, it certainly wasn't English, but it was definitely French, which makes sense, she was in France after all.

Luckily, her parents had taken her here for years during Summer and Winter holidays to vacation on the beaches and in the alps respectively. She picked up quite bit of French during that time, and even decided to learn more about it, so she was mostly fluent now.

The book was a family manuscript of a family called the Martineaux. She had never heard of them, so they were either quite small or had died out a long time ago. She flipped the page again and quickly translated the text which read:

"Upon these pages, I Lady Marielle Jacqueline Valentine of Martineaux begin the manuscript of my Noble and Ancient House and Family, for it to be preserved forever into the future for the prosperity of my progeny. Embedded in this tome is part of my own essence, of which will give it life eternal to continue the recording of my blood well beyond the time of my own perishing."

Hermione's mind started thinking faster than comprehension; thoughts catapulting through her mind with reckless abandon. This book had to be written by the Lady of the Library, and by extension then, the mysterious Lady of her visions. If there was a living relative of this lady, the book would tell, and Hermione would finally be able to get some answers as to who this person is and why she was calling to her.

Later she would take more time to go through the book, but right now her mind demanded answers, so she flipped as far to the back of the manuscript as she could get. And right there sitting on a page was her answer. Only one branch of her direct lineage survived, and that was the reason Hermione thought the family had died out. Somewhere in the sordid history of this family, they had changed their name, and for once it seemed she was kissed by the blessings of fate, because Merlin, she knew the name, and she had a portkey to acquire. Hopefully the residents of Shell Cottage didn't mind her dropping in unannounced like this, but she had urgent business to discuss with Matriarch of the House. Afterall, Fleur Delacour was a living descendant of the Lady.

 **{The Progeny of the Lady}**

Hello everyone, I am terribly sorry this update is quite late! I had a busy few weeks where I had incredibly important deadlines to meet, so that took my time away from writing, but I am not busy at all the rest of this month so I will be able to update more frequently! I appreciate all of you who have followed this story and thank you to everyone who has read until this far; it's only because of you that this fic has become more prosperous! Please let me know what you think of the plotline so far and any comments you have, good or otherwise!

Sincerely,

Miss of the Manor


	6. From the Sierra to the Littoral

_Hermione was rather ecstatic about her recent discovery, and Aria found it quite amusing. The human was running around as fast as she could to pack a bag so she could leave immediately for her location. She had yet to tell Aria where she was going. Ah well, Hermione would let her know soon enough._

 _Aria of course, knew exactly what the book she had found was. In fact, she saw the Lady create it, and even helped a touch in devising the proper method to ensure the book would work correctly._

 _Aria let out a little tinkling laugh. Hermione had forgotten about her a resource for some of the knowledge in the library… Yes she couldn't say too much, but she knew most of what happened here, and she could shed some light on Hermione's situation. Well, more than she has already done._

 _It was quite difficult these days to remain hidden while she was spying on Hermione. Yes, she did spy on her. It was necessary. So far though, the bushy haired girl didn't pay much heed to her surroundings, she was much too caught up in the mystery Lady Marielle had left for her, and no one could blame her; the story that was left for Hermione to find was intriguing. Aria assumed that was what this trip was about. She did find the book that contained the Lady's bloodline, so it makes sense that she would leave to find a living scion._

 _She wasn't likely to find much though. The Lady had ensured that most wouldn't be able to remember her this far into the future. Well, they wouldn't believe she was actually real, at least. She did a lot in her lifetime, and, for a normal person, magical or otherwise, it would seem very unbelievable that one person could accomplish so much alone. The Lady very specifically set up contingency plans so that her life would seem like a myth to all those who bothered to look into it._

 _The Lady did that with many things; made people forget them over time. The Faeries are a good example. After she found Aria, the Lady despised with every fiber of her being people who would hunt down Faeries and decimate their villages. So to get people to think all Faeries were extinct, she used her influence over the people to make them think she had seen the last Faerie die at the hands of a hunter. Faeries were rare enough that most wouldn't ever find them anyway. Even so, she and Aria tracked down the remaining Faerie villages around the world and put heavy enchantments upon them so they would never be able to be hurt again._

 _The Lady was amazing… It is a shame the wizarding world would never be able to truly appreciate her and everything she did for them._

 _Aria sighed. It never did her any good to dwell on the Lady. It always made her feel melancholy. She focused her attention on Hermione, who was at the moment trying to find where she put her cloak. The little Faerie smiled down at her from her hiding spot in the confines of the wall; humans were just too amusing. As she stared down at the frantic bookworm she felt herself get dizzy. Unbeknownst to the Faerie, her eyes turned a pale green… Only moment later her eyes faded back to her normal golden hue. The little creature shook her head, still dizzy. Confused, she decided a cup of herbal tea would pep her right back up, so she flew off, making her way through the walls and to her own chambers._

 **{From the Sierra to the Littoral}**

It was a madhouse in Hermione's room. There were clothes strewn about every which way, and a girl was in the thick of it, trying to stuff a bundle of things into a tiny bag.

It wasn't working so well, and the girl let out a loud goran of frustration. _The clothing wouldn't get into the bag fast enough! It was positively infuriating!_ Despite her cursing, the bag still would not take clothing any faster than it already was.

She sighed, and took a deep breath in. It wouldn't do her any good to get worked up about something as trivial as this. There was still a lot more she needed to do before she would be able to go to Shell Cottage. Namely, get a portkey. It would require her to go and see the French ministry, which although was better than her own homeland's magical government, still gave her flashbacks from her time breaking in and trying to steal a certain necklace. It had to be done though, so she had to muster her courage.

Hermione decided to take a small break from packing; she was almost done anyway. Stealing a glance at the window shocked her. Night had fallen. She knew that she would have to sleep sometime, so she decided that now would be better than later. Finishing up the last of her packing, she fell into the comfortable bed and snuggled under the duvet. Mercifully, sleep came soon.

 **{From the Sierra to the Littoral}**

Hours later Hermione was out of bed and ready to go to the French Ministry. She waltzed out of her room, and set out to find her Faerie friend. She found her in front of a pedestal that had a book on it.

"Hello Aria, good morning!" Hermione chirped happily.

Aria seemed a bit surprised, but smiled at the cheerful girl anyway. "You seem happy today. Unusually so!" Her smile morphed into a mischievous grin.

"Hmm, well, I have a new lead as to figuring out why I am here…"

Aria glanced at the bag slung over Hermione's shoulder. "You want the orb, don't you?" The little Fae questioned.

Hermione's face was the only response Aria needed to pull it out of her pocket again. It always returned there when it was done being used.

"You have noticed that the wards here prevent apparation and other means of magical travel," Aria commented knowingly.

Hermione nodded, "I noticed them as soon as we arrived. Though I can't discern most of the other wards, I only feel them there."

Aria smiled. The human was quite intelligent. A good choice.

"Here, and do be careful…" Aria said, tossing the little ball at her, where it proceeded to float by her head, awaiting commands.

Hermione smiled at the kind Faerie,an unspoken promise filled the air between them. Then she turned, intent to get one last thing before she left. The genealogical book she found late yesterday. Once it was in her possession again, she left for the front gates of the library.

The moment she felt herself leave the wards, she apparated to The French Ministry, completely ready for whatever lie in front of her there.

 **{From the Sierra to the Littoral}**

It wasn't as terrible as she thought it might be. The French Ministry was much easier to face than Hermione had anticipated, as she was able to breeze through checking in,and managed to find the International Travels Department with relative ease. She even managed to get an appointment with the man in charge of travel within Europe quickly, though she drew some of that up to being a famous war heroine. It didn't carry as much weight here in France, but it still stands that she was critical in the takedown of a massive threat to the entirety of the magical society.

"Mademoiselle Granger, I am so pleased to see you here today! What can I help you with?" The man she was speaking with, Pierre Dupont, was rather eager to meet her, it seemed. He was nearly falling over his desk trying to shake her hand. She took it hesitantly.

"Err, yes, well I am here to get a portkey back to England." Hermione responded, the man still shaking her hand vigorously. She pulled it away when he still hadn't stopped a moment later.

"Wonderful! And what date are you wanting to return to England?" Monsieur Dupont asked, his tone chipper as ever.

"Today, and as for the time, as quickly as possible. I have urgent business that must be attended to.

Dupont's grin faltered a moment as her replied tightly, "today?"

Hermione only nodded gravely.

"Yes of course, let me see what I can arrange…" The monsieur trailed off and walked through his office door and down the hall, probably looking for the head of the department, she was supposed to request a portkey several days in advance after all.

She only waited moments before a deep growling yell resounded down the corridor Monsieur Dupont went down. Hermione could make out only a precious few of the words that were being shouted in the quick paced French voice, but from what she could tell, they were mostly questioning her audacity to come in here and ask for a portkey scheduled for that same day.

The only response Hermione could justify was rolling her eyes, quelle horreur, a portkey for today! Hermione snickered.

Suddenly, the man and Monsieur Dupont rounded the corner into the office Hermione was sitting in. The anger quickly faded from the man standing beside Dupont. He had obviously recognized her.

"Ah Mademoiselle Granger, it is you requesting the portkey for today?" The man stuttered, embarrassed at his earlier outburst.

Hermione nodded at the man, an amused smile playing about her lips.

"Ah, I will prepare one for you myself!"

"Merci beaucoup, Monsieur…" She trailed off at the end, expecting him to proffer her his name.

Her complied quickly, "Moreau. Clément Moreau, mademoiselle.

She smiled at him, "Merci beaucoup Monsieur Moreau. My portkey?"

"Ah yes!" He fumbled around for a moment, then pulled out a vibrant orange silk pocket square from the depths of his robe.

" _Portus_ ," he tapped the orange fabric with the tip of this wand and handed it to Hermione. "This will take you directly to the British Ministry's International Travel Department."

"Merci messieurs, for all of your help." Hermione replied, then vanished.

Moreau turned to Dupoint and returned to his furious yelling. Dupont really needed to consider switching departments. He wasn't paid enough to deal with this.

 **{From the Sierra to the Littoral}**

Just as Moreau said, Hermione appeared directly in the British International Travels Department where she checked herself in for the second time that day. As soon as she was finished with that, she exited the departement and went the the massive atrium where she apparated to the beaches of Shell Cottage.

After the feeling of being squeezed through a tube subsided, she glided toward the front door of the familiar cottage. Of all the Weasley's who had perished during the battle, she was very grateful that Bill and Fleur weren't numbered among them.

She tapped politely on the door a few times, then waited for the door to be opened. A few moments later, Fleur opened it. She was surprised, Hermione noted, though that wasn't surprising, Hermione _had_ shown up out of the blue. She didn't hesitate to invite Hermione inside though.

The two women got settled in some armchairs in the cosy sitting room.

"Ah,'ermione, I wasn't expecting you today… What brings you 'ere?" Fleur asked, her French accent very prominent in her speech, even after living in England for awhile now.

"Hello Fleur, I was actually hoping to ask you some questions," Hermione responded. She got right to the point, not wanting to waste any time.

Fleur nodded at her to continue.

"You see, I was in France touring some of the best libraries in the country, and I found a rather peculiar book," Hermione paused a moment and took the massive tome out of her bag. "Inside there is a massive family tree going back hundreds of years…"

Fleur was very confused. "Alright, but why ees zis important for me?"

"Well, when I flipped to the last page in it, your name was the one I found… I am wondering if you could tell me about your family history," Hermione replied.

"My name?"

"Errr, well, yes." Hermione flipped to the back of the book and showed Fleur her name.

The part veela's hand flew over her mouth. It seemed nearly impossible that her family would be mentioned in a book such as this.

"May I touch eet? I would like to get a closer look, if you don't mind."

Hermione complied and handed her the book. She flipped through it and sure enough, it was the Delacour family going back generations, until she had flipped through a third of the book back, where the name suddenly changed. Fleur could hardly believe her eyes.

Taking a shuddering breath in Fleur responded, "Zat ees certainly my family tree… I recognize most of ze names recorded up to a certain point." She stopped to contemplate a moment then continued, "I will tell you everyzing I know."

Hermione smiled at Fleur, encouraging her to continue. Fleur meanwhile flipped through the rest of the pages absentmindedly while talking.

"When I was a little girl, ma Mémé would always come over and tell stories to ma soeur and I. We always zought of zem as just zat. Stories. I never imagined zat zey could be real…" She paused to take another breath in. "She would tell us about a person, a lady of whom did ze most amazing acts. She said zat she was ze one who really started our family, and our fortune."

Fleur had finally made it to the first page in the book. The very first name being Marielle Jacqueline Valentine of Martineaux.

"I imagine zat zis is ze lady she was referring to." She pointed at the first name recorded in the book. "Ma Mémé insisted zat she was real, even when mes parents said zat she was mad to zink zat zese myths were true. According to 'er ze lady was incredibly powerful. So powerful zat she completely erased all traces of 'er in 'istory." Fleur swallowed deeply.

"Ma Mémé also said zat as 'er direct blood line, we were in charge of carrying 'er legacy down zrough ze family. She was very adamant zat zere would one day be someone who would need to know 'er legacy. 'Er 'istory. Our 'istory. Zat person could only be you…" Fleur trailed off.

Hermione couldn't believe what she was hearing. She, Hermione-bookworm-Granger, was the person who was destined to hear the history the Delacours had kept with them for hundreds of years… she couldn't fathom it.

"Why don't I go make some tea, I'm sure we will be in need of eet soon." Fleur said this as she walked into her kitchen, leaving Hermione to her thoughts.

 **{From the Sierra to the Littoral}**

Thank you all very much for reading this far! It seems amazing to me that so many have read even this far! I know that I am not the best at writing, and so I am so glad to have so many of you supporting me through this journey! I truly appreciate it to the bottom of my heart! I wanted to make it clear in this chapter that Hermione was in France. Very abundantly clear that she was in France. It is an extremely large plot point later on in the story, so please take note of it, it will be important. I would also like to say that in this part of the story, Victoire has not yet been born, nor even conceived, so if if she is not mentioned at all, that is why. I got a comment the other day asking where Hermione was in the story- past or present, and as for now, she is in the present. In her flashbacks, I cannot necessarily say the same- she may or may not be in the past, just as she may or not be in the present, you will learn what is going on with them later in the story. Once again, thank you all for supporting me and leaving such encouraging comments, you all are the reason I am pushing myself to continue to write and update!

Sincerely,

Miss of the Manor


	7. The Vermillion Pearls

Hermione was still processing when Fleur came back with tea. It seemed so unbelievable.

"Zere ees still so much we need to talk about…" Fleur said while she sat back down in her chair again.

Hermione grunted in response.

Fleur giggled at her undignified response. All things considered, the part veela was taking everything in rather well.

"Come now, we must begin, no whining," Fleur stated seriously.

Hermione nodded her head. Words were still a bit too much for her frazzled brain to try and formulate.

Fleur smiled and began, "As you know, ze Lady was a very powerful person. She did much een 'er lifetime. So to cover eet all, we must start from ze beginning." She stopped and took a sip of her tea then started her tale once more. "When she was young, 'er father and 'er mother died, and she became ze Madame of 'er family's chateau. She could 'ave only been sixteen at ze time. As you may guess, eet was quite stressful for 'er to manage zat all on 'er own… She was strong zough, so she continued on." Fleur paused to take a deep breath and collect her thoughts.

"She wanted to be ze best person she could be, so she eemersed 'erself in 'er studies een 'opes of becoming powerful enough to protect ze chateau, and ze nearby village. Zat ees all she did for zree years." The part veela sipped her tea again. "She studied everything. From Arithmancy to divination, she knew eet all. Not only zat, but she started to invent 'er own creations; zey were powerful too, not just the ordinary protective jewels and spells, but other more dangerous things as well." The pretty blonde's face contorted a bit then she pushed on forward. "Eet wasn't long after zat when she began to experiment with darker magic as well. However," Fleur continued, "She never went dark. She always 'ad a bit of lightness about 'er."

"Zere ees one more very, very important thing I must tell you about 'er." Fleur turned to look at Hermione, " She was an incredible diviner. According to what ma Mémé told me, she could see into ze future for millenia. But zat, zat wasn't what ees most incredible about 'er divination abilities," the blonde began to shake minutely, but persevered in her storytelling anyway. "She could control 'er powers, seeing what she wanted to, when she wanted to. It made 'er dangerous, almost too dangerous.

Hermione was a bit skeptical of wat Fleur was telling her. There was no doubt in her mind that the Lady was a real person who had incredible powers, but divining powers that strong… Well, Hermione just didn't think that was possible.

"Fleur, I don't mean to offend your or your Mémé, but that sounds unreal. There is no one that could ever be that innately talented at divination…"

"Eet ees real!" Fleur hissed at her, "I would never lie about something as serious as zis!" The part veela's eyes burned with passion and determination; she wasn't going to give this up that easily.

Hermione, knowing to pick her battles, decided that Fleur could believe what she wanted to, but so could she. Sighing, Hermione gestured for Fleur to continue with her story; it seemed she had more to impart upon her.

"Een ma Mémé's last will, she gave me possession of something, or rather somethings, zat had once belonged to ze Lady. Eet ees now zat I 'ave ze belief zat zey are meant for you…" Fleur got upu from her seat and went over to a unassuming bookshelf and pulled out two books; one a blue that matched the bright blue sky outside, and the other a deep forest green.

Hermione's pulse picked up. They were obviously part of the rest of the set she had found. Regrettably, she had neglected to bring them along with her, thinking it best to keep them safe at the secure library. She wanted to pound her head against the wall for her negligence. Nonetheless, she had received two new journals, and they were positively begging examination. Hermione stood up and took the books from Fleur.

"Thank you… Do you have anywhere I can lay down for awhile that would be private…?" Hermione asked, taking a moment to look Fleur in the eyes.

The veela smiled at her and escorted her to the guest room.

"Use eet as long as you need." She then walked out, closing the door behind her.

Hermione didn't hesitate to get comfortable on the bed and began to read the blue tome first. Quickly, as times before, she was pulled into an all consuming darkness.

 **{The Vermillion Pearls}**

 _Hermione had woken up in the now very familiar library. However, it seemed different, changed in a way that she couldn't quite pinpoint. She looked around and noticed that she was in the very same room that she had been in the very first time she had started these visions. For some reason, Hermione thought she would be okay to stay out in the open just a bit longer._

 _She took a look around. Innately, she knew that this was the library, but outside of visions, she had never actually been to this particular place of the chateau. It must have been the Lady's room, she realized suddenly. It would explain a lot. Thoughtlessly, she drifted her way over to one of the windows in the room and looked outside of it, admiring the views of the lovely french Alps. It was snowing. She observed the peaceful scenery for awhile but was soon distracted._

 _In the distance, she noticed a little figure approaching the castle fast. Really fast. Squinting, Hermione saw even further away, a fuzzy red blob. As it got closer to her she recognized it to be fire. Glancing back to the first figure she saw, Hermione got alarmed. She too had red attached to her frame, but it wasn't fire. No, it was blood. And_ Merlin _, there was a lot of it._

 _It was alarming for even her, a war hardened war survivor. The person drew even closer to the large chateau Hermione was situated in, and eventually got safely in the wards._

 _Faintly, Hermione knew she should hide at this point, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from the scene in front of her._

 _The person, who she now recognized to be the Lady, was bleeding so much she left a trail of blood staining the pure white snow behind her. It was a macabre sight, and yet, Hermione found she couldn't look away. She was enraptured by the bright scarlet stains in the otherwise perfect powder. Mustering all her willpower seh tore her gaze away and to the fire. It was people holding fire, she discerned now that they were closer. They seemed to be confused; their progress greatly slowed from before as they wandered around the outskirts of the powerful wards._

 _It was then that Hermione knew she had to hide; if she didn't she would risk exposure. She could hear heavy, halting footsteps come down the hallway, so she did the first thing she could think of: hide in the wardrobe._

 _The lady stumbled into the room, clutching the right side of her stomach. The blood seemed to be flowing the most from there, though she had several other bleeding cuts scattered across the rest of her body. Despite her wounds, she reached for something within her desk. She pulled out three books. A sky blue one, a forest green one, and finally, a deep indigo one._

 _She coughed then, and blood came spurting out on the floor and desk, covering them in the same scarlet liquid that covered the snow outside. Grunting and clutching her side harder she reached inside the desk once more and took out a certain white as snow stone. She set all the supplies on the desk and didn't hesitate to rip open the blue book. It was already filled with words, Hermione noted. She used the stone to make the words disappear, then with a shaking hand wrote on the blank page in scratchy script. She finished the ritual with the stone, then grabbed the dropped supplies, including the blue book she had just written in, and the white stone._

 _She again stumbled out the door leaving a bloody mess to mark her trail. Hermione disillusioned herself and trailed behind her. She stumbled all the way down four flights of stairs and went to the front entrance where there lie a plaque. She lurched toward it, falling upon the pillar when she reached it. She pulled herself up, then started to waver her want in a complicated motion over the plaque. It glowed so brightly Hermione was blinded for several moments after the completion of the spell._

 _When her vision had returned, Hermione saw the lady slouched against the plaque writing in the green journal. She had apparently started before Hermione could see again, because only seconds later to was turing a clear stone into a white stone again and storing everything she had carried with her from her rooms in a bag she summoned._

 _It was at that point the Aria the Faerie showed up in all her golden glory. Immediately seeing the Lady's injury, she rushed toward her, supporting hr as best as a creature of her diminutive size could. She and the Lady seemed to have a silent conversation, or rather argument, if their pinched and serious faces were anything to go by. The Lady won, as Aria sighed and the Lady gave a painful smile._

 _The lady reached inside her bag and took out the two books she had written in already and handed them off to Aria who flew away quickly, with the books floating behind her. The lady slouched against the plaque again, breathing heavily._

 _Minutes later and Aria was back carrying a familiar potion. It was the same potion she had used for the scar she had gotten, Hermione realized. The Lady didn't look relieved though, insead her head snapped up from its slouched position, etched with concern. She turned to Aria._

 _"They have gotten past the wards… We must get out of here. Now!" The Lady whispered, barely audible._

 _Aria nodded gravely and supported the Lady with her magic. Once the Faerie got the Lady up, they struggled together to the back of the library. After a tenuous journey, they made it to their destination. The Lady whispered a spell Hermione couldn't hear, and a door opened out of the many bookshelves lining the backmost wall of the library. With one last glance behind her, the Lady fled into the dark corridor which sealed behind her. Hermione too fell into a darkness, a darkness that would return her to her normal life._

 **{The Vermillion Pearls}**

Hermione awoke with a start. She was covered in a cold sweat, and was trembling. What had she just seen?

 **{The Vermillion Pearls}**

I can hardly fathom how much support all of you readers have given me! I truly appreciate it, and I am so happy to announce that **within the next FOUR chapters Hermione will officially be back in the Marauder's time!** It has been a long lead up to it, and I am so glad we are finally there! I know this was a shorter chapter than the ones I usually post, however, it felt right to leave it off there. I would also like to start putting in a disclaimer at the end of each chapter because, JK Rowling owns the entire _Harry Potter_ universe, and therefore most of the characters and world belong to her. On another note, thank you all for leaving encouraging comments and suggestions for me, and thank you to everyone who is asking questions. It is my pleasure to answer them as best as I can to help you understand and like the story more!

Sincerely,

Miss of the Manor


	8. The Irriguous Grotto

Hermione sat in the comfortable bedding for as long as she could, unable to muster the energy to move. It had been awhile since the Final Battle, but it was still shocking to see such a morbid sight. Eventually, Hermione knew, she would need to get up and tell Fleur she was done, but the bed provided a comfortable security that she would lose when she got out.

Hermione sighed and got out anyway. It wouldn't do her good to dwell here all day. She took the books and shuffled downstairs toward the direction of the kitchen, intent on getting a glass of water to calm her nerves a bit.

Inside the kitchen, she found Fleur sipping another cup of tea, and looking at an old photo album. She looked up as Hermione walked in.

"'Ello, 'Ermione… I 'ope you got done what needed to get done. Nearly five 'ours 'ave past!"

Hermione shifted uncomfortably. "E-er, well yes, thank you."

"Hmm," She murmured, taking a sip of tea, looking at Hermione over the top of her cup.

Hermione felt terribly awkward. _What does one do in this situation?_

She settled for asking Fleur a question. She gulped and said, "W-what are you looking at?"

"Photos of ma Mémé. After 'aving talked about 'er, I found ze want to see 'er eensatiable," Fleur said, looking up at Hermione.

"Ah- I- I see," was all she could muster in reply.

Fleur looked at her a moment more then said, "Bill will be 'ere soon. Why don't you stay for dinner. You look positively famished."

Hermione nodded her acquiescence, her nerves still piqued from the vision.

"Wonderful. Now you 'ave time to tell me exactly what you were doing in zat room by yourself for _five 'ours._ "

Hermione froze. There was no way Fleur would let her get out of this, and she had a feeling that the part veela would know if she were lying.

"Fleur, I don't know if I can tell you exactly what I was doing…" Hermione trailed off at the withering look the blonde shot at her. "Or maybe I can…"

Fleur gave a satisfied smile.

"Alright, it started a while ago, in France. The Alps to be specific," Hermione began, "While I was there, in France, I met a man. He seemed to be a bit loony, but, I listened to what he was saying anyway." She stopped and gathered her thoughts a bit more, then continued, "He said something about mysterious ruins in the Alps. I knew I shouldn't have listened to him, but I did, and only days later I found myself trekking through the thick forests of the mountain range. I wandered around lost, for three days. Then on the very day I was about to give up, the most peculiar creature showed up…" Hermione gulped.

"It was a Faerie. She led me to the location of the ruins, and when we arrived, it was indeed the location the man had described, but, what greeted me wasn't the ruins of a massive chateau, but a fortress standing tall and gleaming in the sunlight…"

Fleur gasped, "Ze Chateau of ze Lady…"

Hermione nodded, "But the peculiarities didn't end there… Inside the chateau, there was a massive library, bigger than anything I have seen before, which is really saying something. It was full of strange books, but the most prevalent type of book contained old, archaic magic."

Fleur eyes widened and Hermione continued, "The biggest attention grabber though, wasn't the books, but a strange plaque that greets people at the entrance of the library. It glows with powerful magic, Fleur. It is so powerful that I got intoxicated with the powers of just being around it…"

"The next day, I found the most peculiar book… It matches the very same books you gave me today. And that isn't all, I've found three others. I also know that there is one more. I have a pretty good idea of where it is too."

"Zese books, zey are all written by ze lady?" Fleur asked quietly.

Hermione nodded, "There is one last thing you have to know about the books though…"

Fleur's face contorted in bewildered surprise. "Zere ees more?"

"Yes. Accompanying each of the books is a vision. A vision of the Lady. And the last one I've had is the most troubling." She stopped to look at Fleur, "I must find the last book. It is imperative to what the Lady is trying to tell me. I know it."

Just as Hermione had finished her sentence, the front door opened. Both of the ladies turned to look in the direction of the kitchen entryway. Bill appeared a moment later.

"Hermione! What a surprise to see you, " Bill exclaimed. Apparently he and Fleur didn't get many visitors here at Shell Cottage.

"Hello, I thought I would stop in for a quick chat, "Hermione said to him.

"Oh wonderful! Let's talk over dinner," Bill held up a bag of food.

Hermione turned to look at Fleur questioningly.

"I asked 'im to bring 'ome some food. Though I never did mention zat you were 'ere. 'E always bring too much zough, so eet ees perfect zat you are 'ere.

Bill busied himself with setting up cutlery on the table and soon all three of them were eating the food. For the most part, they were all silent, too intent on eating than to talk, but Fleur broke the silence.

"I 'ave decided zat I am going to go to France for awhile," Fleur said, turning to look at Bill.

He froze, then spluttered, "France, now?"

She nodded her head solemnly.

"Why!" He yelled. He seemed just as confused as Hermione.

Fleur started at him evenly, "Because my family needs me right now. More zan you need me 'ere watching after ze 'ouse all day. You will not win zese. I 'ave already decided. I leave een ze morning."

Bill looked frustrated, then replied, "I _do_ need you here!"

Fleur only smiled at him, "I will be back een several days time. But I really do 'ave ze most urgent matter to attend to."

It seemed Bill, like Hermione, knew that he had to choose which battles to fight, and this wasn't going to be one of them because he nodded his head and gave a simple, "Okay," to his wife.

She smiled at him and kissed his cheek. "I knew you would understand. I will do ze dishes tonight!" She stood up and started levitating the dirty dishes toward the sink where they began to magically clean themselves under Fleur's watchful eye.

Bill turned back to Hermione, and flushed a bit red. "Sorry you had to see that…" He began to rub the back of his neck, but then seemed to remember something. "Earlier you said you wanted to talk, right? What is wrong?"

Hermione stiffened. Telling Fleur why she was here was one thing, but Bill, She couldn't risk it. She snuck a quick covert glance toward Fleur who gave a little shake of her head.

"You know, it's not actually all that important," Hermione lied.

"Err, okay?" Bill said puzzled.

Hermione smiled and Fleur came back toward the table, finished with the cleaning.

"Now, let's get you settled een for ze night, oui?" Fleur patted Hermione's back and led her up the stairs before Bill could utter one word of protest. Once they reached the same room Hermione had been in earlier that day, Fleur entered and closed the door behind her.

"'Ermione, tomorrow morning I am returning to France with you to see zis library. Eef your book ees right, and I am a living heir of ze Lady, ze wards will admit me. I 'ave a feeling you will be een need of my 'elp."

Hermione had the same inkling, so she didn't argue with her, and instead nodded her head in affirmation.

Fleur gave Hermione a genuine smile and bid her goodnight. Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

 **{The Irriguous Grotto}**

Hermione awoke early the next day, and prepared to leave the cosiness of Shell Cottage to return to the Library. She and Fleur met in the front entryway, where the part veela kissed her husband goodbye and they were off to the ministry to procure a portkey back to France. The International Travels Department wasn't going to be very happy with her, _again._

Luckily, they didn't put up a fuss. She _was_ Hermione Granger. Only an hour after leaving Shell Cottage, they were back in France at International Travels Department signing in. They narrowly evaded Monsieur Dupont and Monsieur Moreau, but after that they were free, and got out of the Ministry rather quickly.

Hermione and Fleur linked arms, ready to apparate to the boundaries of the Lady's Chateau. Unfortunately from them, the apparation point was rather far from the actual building, so they were going to have to trek through several kilometers of thick forestry. Apparently one could disapparate as soon they left the gates of the Library, but couldn't apparate to the same place. Luckily though, Hermione still had the magical orb that could direct her, so the two woman made it to the chateau relatively quickly.

They could see the gates after only two or so hours of navigating the forest, and quickly rushed inside them. Fleur's assumption was correct; the library did accept her as a descendant of the Lady, and she could see the entire chateau in all its splendour.

"Zese ees amazing!" Fleur breathed.

Hermione couldn't help but agree. Every time she saw it, she thought the same thing. But there was something more important to consider. Where was Aria? Hermione didn't have to ponder it long, as a little golden flurry came to greet her and Fleur at the gates.

If she was surprised by the new visitor she didn't show it. In fact she seemed rather… pleased?

"Welcome back," The Faerie tittered then turned her attention to Fleur, "And you must be a heiress of the Lady! The wards alerted me as soon as you both stepped inside them kilometers ago."

Fleur was floored. From the chateau to meeting a Faerie, she wondered what else this place could hold.

Aria giggled at the expressions playing across Fleur's face.

"I would give you a tour, but I think that Hermione can show you everything you need to know."

Fleur managed a nod, a tremendous step up from the open mouthed gaping she was doing only moments before.

Aria turned back to Hermione, "I will be inside if you have anything you need."

Hermione yelled a quick thank you to the little Faerie, who waved back at her. She then turned to Fleur to start showing her around, starting with the inside of the library.

As the two walked to the front doors of the chateau, FLeur managed to find her voice. "Zat really was a Faerie… I know you said zat zere was one, but actually seeing eet…"

She seemed at a loss of words again so Hermione responded, "Yes, you get used to it by about the third day."

Fleur only laughed at that.

The first thing Fleur noticed as she walked into the library was the glowing plaque. She walked toward it, and gently put her hand down on it tacing the runes just as Hermione did the first time she saw it. A look of wonderment filled her eyes.

"I see what you mean about ze power. I can feel eet running zrough my veins."

Hermione nodded her head, "And it gets more powerful with the presence of the journals."

"Eet does?" She asked almost unbelievingly.

"Yes," Hermione said walking up to Fleur and putting a hand on her shoulder, "But, there is something else we really need to focus on."

"You are right… Lead ze way."

Together they walked past the map, which was glowing, but Hermione thought that it could wait. For now, the important thing was getting the last book. All she had to do was get to the back of the library and figure out how to open the secret passageway. She knew it was a spell thanks to the dream, but she didn't hear it because the Lady was so quiet. However… there was one more person who was there.

"Aria! I need you help," Hermione yelled, hoping that the little Faerie would be able to hear her.

Luckily, she did. Aria came zooming down to Hermione, an attentive look present on her face. "Yes, what is it?"

Hermione faltered for a second. Should she really tell Aria that she had been seeing the lady in book induced visions? The Lady was still a sensitive subject for Aria afterall. Hermione shook her head, she _had_ to tell her. She was the only one who might know what the spell would be.

"Aria, I have something to confess… Since I came to this library, I have been having visions. They aren't normal either, not like a Seer would have, but visions that stem from me reading certain books…" Hermione paused, hesitant to share who the dreams were about, not wanting to hurt the Faerie. She had to continue though, so she said, "They-they were about the Lady. You were in them too."

Aria sighed then. "Hermione, I have known about you getting these visions for awhile now. In fact, I knew you would have them before you were born. Marielle told me about them."

Hermione let a breath she didn't realize she was holding.

Aria smiled at her and gave a glance toward Fleur before refocusing in on Hermione. "I also assume that since you are with her," she glanced at Fleur, "You have found both the blue and green books?"

Hermione nodded.

"Then you are only needing the last one then."

She nodded again.

Aria smiled broadly, "Let's go then, we are burning daylight!"

The group finished the walk to the back of the library and stopped in front of a familiar book case. Under her breath, Aria said a spell. A doorway opened in the same place Hermione remembered it to be. Before Hermione could go through the little Faerie stopped her.

"You are going to need all the books you have found up to this point with you to get the last book. Get them quickly."

The little Faerie seemed to know more than Hermione had ever thought her knowing, so she rushed back to her rooms, grabbed the tomes, and ran back to the doorway.

"You also need to make the journey to get the last book by yourself. I cannot help you anymore than I have. It is something you must find on your own."

Hermione looked solemnly at the little creature she had some to know these past few days.

"I understand, thank you for everything you have done for me."

The Faerie nodded at her.

Hermione then turned to Fleur and gave her a quick hug.

"I owe you a thank you too." Fleur squeezed her back, and when they released, Hermione surged forward, nodding back at Fleur and Aria. She turned back around and crept into the darkness in front of her. She jumped a bit when the door sealed shut behind her, encompassing her in total darkness. She cast a quick _lumos_ and continued walking deeper into the cavern.

It was damp, and the air was stale, yet, there were all different types of plants growing. There were cobwebs lingering in every corner, and Hermione felt uneasy. The magic here was ancient and strong; it gave off so much power Hermione felt suffocated. She pushed away all those thoughts and feelings, and focused instead on putting one foot in front of the other. The stone path began to slope downwards and it get even more damp. There were even pools of water scattered about. As she got even deeper down, her uneasiness was getting harder to ignore.

She focused even more on planting on foot in front of the other. It was then that she noticed red drips leading further down the tunnel. In silent horror, she realized it was blood, and it wasn't dry blood at that. She kept walking forward though, she was almost there. She could feel it.

Even further down the tunnel, Hermione lost the need for her wandlight. The plants growing on the walls and floor glowed different colors of green, pink, purple, and blue. It would have been beautiful if Hermione wasn't so horrified by the wet blood. Though she had no need for her wand, it stayed tightly in her hand. She learned from the war to always be ready for battle.

Hermione walked for another twenty minutes before she noticed anything else. In the distance, there was a bright white light. As she drew closer, the magical pressure became so strong she almost couldn't handle it. Just a bit further though. _Only a bit more and she would be to the bright light_. Giving one last push, she stumbled and fell right in front of the bright white light, which to Hermione's great alarm, held out a hand for her to take. She looked up fearfully, and found a smiling face at her.

"Hello Hermione. We have much to talk about."

 **{The Irriguous Grotto}**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own _Harry Potter_ , the _Harry Potter_ universe belongs to JK Rowling.**

Thank you everyone, for reading this far. It has been a long journey to get up to this point, and I am so grateful for all of the support I have received, it has truly helped me. Since the last chapter was so short, I decided to post another, which is why this one is coming out so close to the previous one. Only three more chapters and Hermione will be back in time! I am really excited to get there, as I'm sure most of you are as well! We have been in these beginning chapters for while now! To everyone who has encouraged me, thank you.

Sincerely,

Miss of the Manor


	9. The Powers that Be

Hermione was only a little ashamed to admit she let out a squeal of fear when the bright light started talking. The light, which she now recognized as an ethereal ghost-like human, was waiting patiently for her to take the proffered hand. Gulping, Hermione stood up without the assistance of the ethereal being, and stepped backward several steps needing to further her proximity to the strange presence. The spectral being only gave a little shake of her head and a small smirk.

"My Dear Hermione, you are never going to find the book ignoring me like that," the personage said lightly.

Hermione weighed her options. On one hand, the being seemed to have information as to where the book was, and could help her; on the other hand, she could be trying to fool her to kill her. That wasn't an unusual behavior for magical creatures. Making the decision to approach the figure, Hermione did a quick scan of her surroundings to look for possible escape routes if anything bad happened.

Unlike the more cramped walk space of the corridors she used to get here, this place wide and open. Behind her there was a massive lake spanning much the open space. Much like before, there were plants glowing dimly, shedding the entire area in a faint blush of colors. The lake seemed to have something that glowed within it too, because it gave off a vague light. Crystals had formed in some places as well. Again Hermione wanted to marvel at the beauty of the place, but her attention was needed somewhere else.

Slowly, Hermione approached the apparition. It smiled at her.

"You have no reason to be so afraid, dear child… I only wish to impart knowledge upon you." The personage's voice with a bit echoey and distant, as if she were far away.

Now that Hermione had calmed down considerably, she heard a familiar tonality in her voice. It sounded almost the same as…

"The Lady, you are the Lady, aren't you?" Hermione gasped.

She smiled and nodded.

Now that Hermione had said it, she could see the physical similarities in the two faces…

"Hermione we do not have much time, the anchor I used to tie me to this world is weakening and fading." She gave a sad smile, "But it is imperative that you listen to what I am about to tell you. It has the potential to save many lives that were needlessly lost."

Hermione nodded her head solemnly.

The Lady nodded her head back at Hermione, and began her tale, "Centuries ago, when I was a young girl of fifteen, I was studying under the greatest diviner of my time. I had known I was a Seer from a young age, and I wanted to refine my abilities, to hopefully help others. Luckily my Madame saw a great talent in me, and under her tutelage, I learned to gain greater control of my abilities."

"One night, after an arduous day of training, I went for a walk in the Forest, hoping to clear my mind before I went to sleep. I had Seen a great many things that day, and I needed a reprieve from it all. While I was wandering, I stumbled upon a cavern. As I walked down the tunnels, I could feel it vibrating with an ancient and powerful magic. I walked for so long, I lost track of time, but eventually, I stumbled into this grotto. It was the source of the magic, and it was calling to me."

"Before I knew what I was doing, I had dived into the waters of that lake. The magic there helped me stay on the surface of the water. It was very peaceful, floating there with magic supporting me. I fell into a vision more powerful than anything I had ever experienced before. In the vision I saw a war. There was so much bloodshed; both sides fighting endlessly. There was no resolution. In the thick of this battle I saw you."

"You were beautiful. You fought with the ferocity of a lioness, and when it was all over, you rose from the burning ashes like a phoenix. I was inspired by you, and your tenacity. However, I also saw the sadness that would cloud the entire wizarding world for years to come. It wouldn't dispel for years, and years. And even when it had, a small patch would always reside over you. It would be your destruction."

"When I awoke from the vision, I was greeted by the ancient powers that resided in this cavern. Each of them bestowed a gift upon me, a gift that would help me prevent the future I foresaw."

Hermione could feel a stirring in the room. Magic was always somewhat sentient, however this room felt like something entirely more alive. It felt as though the magic was awakening from a long slumber.

"I knew deep in my heart, that you would be the one to usher in a new age of prosperity and the one who would dispel the dark cloud that hung over the people. That is why I created the Books, the Stone, and the Plaque. It was to give you a glimpse into my life, and to be a catalyst for change. I imbued those books with my own magical essence, and set Aria as their guardian."

Hermione found it difficult to get breath down her throat. A massive lump had formed, and was making her teary.

"Hermione, like me, you have been chosen by the ancient magics. And it is for that reason that I ask you to complete the journey I have set out for you. It will be long and formidable. You will face many difficulties and challenges ahead of you, but you cannot give up! The lives of many now lie in your hands, rise to the challenge!"

With one final cry of the Lady, the room was enveloped in a glow so powerful Hermione was blinded even with her eyes shut. She could feel the enture grotto take in a massive breath and wake up. She felt distant from her body, which was now moving toward the lake. She felt it dive into the water and was consumed by the magic. She lay that way for an unknown amount of time; stuck in a peaceful inbetween state. Eventually, she began regaining her senses, and the same magic that had pulled her into the water, was placing her back on the ground gently.

When she opened her eyes, there were three personages standing before her, all unfamiliar. The lady was gone.

" _Hermione,_ " came a quiet whisper.

She looked back at the three beings standing in front of her. The one leftmost from her was a man, the one rightmost was a woman, and the one in the middle was indiscernible, a mix between the beings on either side of it.

Then she heard it again, " _Hermione._ "

Slowly she stepped toward the three figures. The woman was smiling gently at her, the man scowling, and again, the middle had an indistinguishable expression; a mix of a smile and a scowl.

" _Hermione… We are the Powers that Be._ " The voice was only a whisper, but it shook Hermione to her soul. The woman stepped forward and took her right hand. Somehow, Hermione knew it was her that was the one speaking. She was very beautiful, very ethereal and wearing a flowing dress that seemed to be fluttering in a nonexistent breeze A crown of flowers top her head.

" _We are the powers that have existed longer than time itself_." This time the man walked toward her and took her left hand. He was just as beautiful as the woman holding her other hand, but in a much more regal way. He was wearing fine robes and and had a heavily jeweled crown atop his head.

" _We keep balance in all._ " The final personage whispered. It walked behind her and put its hand on her shoulders. It was wearing something, though Hermione couldn't tell what. Everything about this apparition was a perfect mixture of both the man and the woman.

" _We have come to grant you gifts._ " The woman said. " _I grant you the gift of an empathetic hand, to guide you in helping those around you._ "

Hermione felt herself grow warm, hot even. It was almost unpleasant.

" _I grant you the gift of a firm foot, to help you stand strong and conquer your enemies._ " The man stated.

Hermione grew cold, almost freezing.

" _And I, I grant you the gift of discerning eyes, to know who to help, and who to conquer._ " The final being said.

Hermione returned to a normal temperature, and all three of the apparitions whispered together, " _We, the Powers that Be, grant you these gifts to guide you in your journey._ "

Another blindingly bright light filled the cavern and the apparitions disappeared. The magic in the chamber went back to slumbering, and Hermione felt breathless. In the same place the beings had stood, there lay an indigo book, and a white stone. She bent down to pick them up and saw her clothing had changed. Before she had on a plain jumper, jeans, and shoes. Now she wore a flowing white dress, and a jeweled crown, with no shoes. A perfect mixture of simple and extravagant.

Hermione felt different too. Not in a bad way, but her magic seemed changed. More powerful. More raw. More pure. It was the gifts, she realized. They had changed her magic, and made into a more powerful version of itself. Why her clothing had changed though, she couldn't guess. Possibly a physical manifestation of the gifts?

She didn't dwell on it though. She had to figure out what this journey was. Both the Lady and the Powers that Be mentioned a journey, and she hadn't a clue what it could be. The book would probably shed some light on it though, so her new goal was to get back to her rooms so she could read it.

She walked down the corridor again, making her way back to the library. She didn't notice that the magical pressure didn't bother her anymore, nor did she realize the blood that had splattered the corridor was gone. All she was focused on was getting back to her chamber.

She made it back after an hour or so of walking leisurely. She pushed on the entrance, and was pleasantly surprised to have it pop right open, readmitting her to the library. Aria and Fleur weren't waiting at the entrance anymore, but she didn't really blame them. She had a feeling she was in there for awhile. She wandered back to her room, thoughtlessly, passing the still glowing map on her way.

When she arrived at her rooms though, the door wouldn't open. No amounts of _alohomora_ were going to fix it either. Sighing, she went back to the map, and touched the new glowing area. Obviously the library wanted her to see this before it would admit her to her rooms again.

A trail of magic appeared, guiding her to the stairway. It went up four flights and down a hallway before stopping at a door. Hermione followed all the way down to the door and opened it up. It was the Lady's room. But, that wasn't all. Her stuff from her old room had been transferred here. And the beaded bag she had been wearing in the grotto was laying innocently on the bed. A quick peek in the wardrobe, and she saw her clothing from the grotto was in there. On the desk all of the books she had received up until then were waiting.

Hermione set the new book on the desk next to the others, and sighed. She did not have time to move all of her stuff back to her rooms. She picked up her beaded bag and shoved everything in the wardrobe in there, and walked out of the room and into the corridor. Well, she tried to walk into the corridor, but for some reason she couldn't leave the room.

She wanted to scream. She knew it was the library barring her access to the hallways, but she couldn't fathom why. She dropped onto the bed and decided that for an unknown reason, the library wanted her here, in this room. She was too tired to try and fight it, so she just grabbed the indigo book and decided to start reading. If she was going to be stuck here, at least she would get something done. She welcomed the darkness, knowing that it would be her last time.

 **{The Powers that Be}**

 _She was back in the grotto she had been in earlier, and it was in every way, the same she remembered it being. She could hear in the distance some labored breathing, and took off for the nearest hiding spot: behind a set of vines covering the cavern walls. Sure it wasn't the best hiding place, but, at the moment it was the best she could do._

 _The Lady and Aria stumbled into the room shortly after Hermione got situated in her hiding place. Hermione noticed the Lady said something to the Faerie, who then flew off further down the cavern, and out another corridor opposite of that in which they came through._

 _The lady slumped down on a wall and relaxed as best she could. She seemed to still be bleeding a bit on her side. She lifted her lolled head and started right at Hermione._

" _You can come out now. Aria will be gone for another hour at least," The Lady said raspily._

 _Hermione emerged from her hiding place feeling a bit sheepish. She'd never been called out by the Lady before in a dream. "Err- Hullo, I'm Hermione…"_

" _Yes, I am well aware of who you are. I need your help. Come here," she grunted, and lifted her hand from her side. It was bloody._

 _Hermione moved over to her side to provided assistance in whatever way she could._

" _In my cloak pocket there is a potion. Take it out, and pour it on my wound."_

 _Hermione reached into the woman's clock and pulled out an elixir of phoenix and faerie tears. She carefully removed the fabric surrounding the wound and assessed it to be a deep puncture wound. It was oozing a bit, and Hermione deduced it was from some sort of poison infecting her system. She uncorked the vile and poured a bit of the golden liquid on the wound. It began to close itself up, the skin knitting back together. All that remained as evidence of the wound was the blood soaking her clothing, hands, and the stone ground._

" _Thank you. Even with my seeing abilities, I cannot See my own future." The Lady said, sounding much heartier._

 _Hermione only nodded, sensing the Lady wasn't quite finished. Now that Hermione was closer to her, she could see the resemblance between her and Fleur. Both were ethereally beautiful, and Hermione couldn't help but wonder if maybe the Lady had some Veela in her._

" _Hermione, I trust that you already know the reason you were called here, so I am going to explain your journey, your mission."_

" _Ever since I had a vision of you five years ago, and I received my gifts, I have been trying my absolute best to create a plan to ensure you would be able to receive the messages I left for you. After researching for nearly three years, I created the Books, the Stone and the Plaque._

" _Each of them play a different role in your understanding of my messages. First was the books. All seven of them are imbued with my memories, which allowed you to see exactly what I wanted you to see. They also have heavy time enchantments on them. So every time you had a vision, it was actually you travelling in time to here, so I would be able to interact with you. It was dangerous, but necessary."_

" _Next was the stone, which is what allowed me to transfer my magic into the books. You will find particular use of it on your journey. I cannot go into deep details, but, I created it with the intentions of it being used for more than just the transfer of my memories into the books. Be sure to remember that when you are stuck."_

" _Finally, there is the Plaque. It will be the catalyst for the start of your journey. All three of the elements of this plan work together to create a very powerful spell. A time Spell."_

 _Hermione gasped. She was of course in the past now, however she knew that she would return as soon as the Lady used the stone to finish her entry in the final journal. It was very much temporary. The way that she was phrasing this… It wasn't going to be temporary._

 _The Lady looked gravely at Hermione. "I know this a large responsibility, but you need to take it. You have to. There is no other way to bring balance back to your time. For the sake of the entire world, you must do it!"_

" _I-I don't know what to say…"_

" _Yes. I sensed that this might have been the case, so I am very sorry for what is about to happen. Obviously, there is no way I can convince you to go to the past, but you can convince yourself…" The Lady put her hands on either side of Hermione's temples and sent a wave of magic through them and into her mind._

 _Hermione's thoughts were suddenly consumed with her friends, all the great times they shared together, all the fun they had. It made Hermione happy to see, but they were slowly being replaced with the pictures of their unmoving corpses, each of them dead and rotting away. Hermione cried. And cried. And cried. It was too much to handle. All of the memories she had repressed, everything she had taken out off her mind; it was all laid out in front of her, and it was a smack in the face. She understood now. The lady was giving her a chance to save them. To save their happiness._

 _With her decision made, Hermione was able to easily leave her thoughts of hesitation behind. She knew she had to do it. It would cause so much good. Her resolute attitude was enough for the Lady to continue speaking._

" _The plan is this. You are going to gather everything you need for your voyage within the next two weeks. This includes getting your plan down. It won't be easy to establish yourself in the past, but the stars are on your side."_

" _You will be returning to the date of December twenty-fourth, nineteen-seventy."_

 _Hermione did some quick mental math. It meant that she would be in the time of the Marauders. It excited her a bit, knowing that she would get to see Harry's parents, and get to know a less burdened Sirius and Remus._

" _When you get there, you must take some precautions. You will not want to stand out. Any attention you garner_ will _be taken to the man who calls himself Lord Voldemort. I cannot stress enough that you should go about destroying him covertly. The last time there was a full on clash, you saw and experienced what happened. The goal is to not repeat that."_

" _Luckily for us, there is a wizarding family that lives quite close to the library in the time you are traveling to. I am confident that they will help you blend in to the time. They are close friends of the Delacours, my descendants. In fact, they will be close confidants of your Fleur's Mémé, and they will have already heard my tale. They will help you, you just need something to prove that you are truly from the future, and are an ally to them. I will leave that part up to you, but I would suggest talking to Fleur, she should have something to help you."_

" _While you are there, try to persuade the Lemercier's- the family I was speaking of earlier- to do a blood adaption. If you are caught under fire about your identity at all, it will protect you from questions and testing. The French Ministry at that time will not have documented any blood adoptions, as the magic is ancient and it is different for every house that uses it to integrate someone into the family."_

" _May I also recommend taking a deaging potion? Children are seen as quite innocent, so you would be able to go about destroying him without seeming like a suspect. Besides that, you have had a hard life in your time. Seize this opportunity to try and have a more joyful childhood. Your happiness is just as important as the friends you hope to save, remember that."_

" _The only massive problem you should encounter is trying to get to the United Kingdom, where everything is taking place. You will be much safer in France, and you will be in a place that will allow me to help you. When you leave the country, there is only so much I will be able to do, being dead and all. While you are here in France, I can protect you."_

" _Make sure you have a deep understanding of French before you leave. I know that you already speak it, but, you will need to sound native to France when you arrive in the past. Again, Fleur should be able to help you with that."_

" _We do not have much time left. Before you return, I must tell you how to slingshot yourself into the past…" But the Lady never got to finish. All too quickly Aria was back, floating massive logs of firewood in tow. The lady ushered Hermione back to her original hiding spot and put heavy concealment enchantments upon it._

 _As she hid Hermione the lady hissed urgently, "Should you need any assistance, find Aria and chant this:_ haec animum nodis ligat invoco anchor revelare illud _. Good Luck!"_

 _Hermione watched as the two friends made a fire in the damp grotto. Then the Lady pulled out the indigo diary to start the process of sending Hermione back to her original time. With the final tap of the Lady's wand to the stone, Hermione fell into inky darkness for the last time._

 **{The Powers that Be}**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own _Harry Potter_ or the _Harry Potter Universe, they belong to the Lovely JK Rowling._**

Thank you, to everyone who has supported me on this wild journey of writing and uploading. It had really helped me improve myself with deadlines, and tenacity for getting things done. I really hope you enjoyed the latest chapter, it was long, and took awhile to write it the way I wanted it written. I am so glad to say Hermione will be back in time within the next 2 chapters. Yes, she will be staying in France still, but never fear, I have already go plans for her to meet the marauders and other key players in the story early on, so you will get your dosage of marauder goodness soon! Thank you once again for reading this far. I know it has been a bit boring getting everything set in stone, but many of the themes introduced in these first few chapters will run throughout the entire story, so it was important to include them.

Sincerely,

Miss of the Manor


	10. Incantations

Hermione was correct; it was a long and hectic fourteen days.

The first problem was her French. It was one thing being able to speak the language, and an entirely different thing to sound native to it. Sounding like a person who has lived in France for the entirety of her life was apparently very difficult… It was a good thing that Fleur was quite patient with her.

The second issue was trying to find an appropriate de-aging potion. Ten years old would be an ideal age to be, then when she arrived, she would be the same age as Sirius, Remus, and James, which would help with getting them to know and trust her. She found the perfect potion in the section that contained the first journal, lucky for her. Though, Hermione suspected the Lady planned it to be that way.

The next problem was finding something that would convince the Lemerciers to help her. After speaking to Fleur, that was fixed. Apparently, Fleur had received one of Madame Lemercier's family heirloom necklaces when she was a child. So, if Hermione were to present the necklace to the Lemerciers in the past, they would know she meant well wishes upon them.

Hermione didn't have many problems after that, however, when the fateful day in which she would go to the past dawned, Hermione realized she still had no idea how to get back in time. She knew that Aria would be able to help if if she used the spell the Lady had given her, but for some reason, Hermione felt as though that wasn't what she should do. Aria had been looking quite exhausted the past few days; as if she had flown around the entirety of the earth many times, without rest. She still wasn't fairing well, and Hermione didn't want to chance the spell hurting her, especially in her current condition.

So Hermione stood at the Plaque with all of the tomes she had collected lying in front of her, pondering how she could trigger thr spell. Aria and Fleur were there too, trying to help her figure out how to get back, and to say goodbye and good luck.

Her hair was floating around her head like a Halo, and she felt magic surging through her body, more powerful than anything she had ever felt before. A golden bubble of magic had formed around her, and seven rectangular indentations formed around the Plaque. It was quite obvious to Hermione that a book needed to be placed in each of them, but she couldn't figure out the order.

She had tried putting them in the order she had gotten them in, but that didn't work, much to her dismay. She tried various other combinations but nothing was working. She had been at it for at least two hours before she noticed a pattern in the books. All of them corresponded to a color on the rainbow. Starting with the red book, she placed it in the slot directly in front of the Plaque, and placed each color in the rainbow after that to the right.

When that last book fell into place, there was a surge of magic that could be felt for kilometers around the library. Hermione glanced down at the Plaque and noticed that the swirling runes were shifting in and out of focus. She could read parts of it, but could never get far into the runes before they hazed out of focus. Hermione immediately knew the solution. The Stone.

And sure enough, when she placed the Stone on the Plaque, she could read all of the words as clearly as a pristine lake. It was an incantation. Magic surged around her in the little golden buble, and the ceiling of the Chateau shifted and revealed a giant skylight. Colored lights shot out from the books on the floor, forming a glittering rainbow of magic around her.

Turing to look back at Fleur and Aria one last time, she gave them a weak and watery smile. They had been such good friends to her the past few weeks, and she was going to miss them. When she arrived in the past, they would no longer remember her. No one would.

The two females smiled back at Hermione, their eyes shining with unshed tears and encouragement. Hermione turned back to the Plaque and took a deep breath, closing her eyes in the process. When she opened her eyes again, she felt the Magic raise even more, and knew it was time.

She chanted the words revealed plainly to her on the Plaque, "I Hermione Granger, Blessed by the Fates, Time, and the very essence of Magic itself, do solemnly declare that this time to be unfit and unjust, the precarious balance of all that is good, and of all that is bad, of light and of dark, of magic and of mundane, to be out of balance. I give myself as a sacrifice to restore balance and to live up to the Order of the Lady, to ensure the return of balance. To accomplish my task I call upon all Powers that Are, Were, and Will Be to bless me with the power to initiate this change. I swear upon my blood, my magic, and the very essence of my being to restore balance! So mote will be my creed!"

With the uttering of the final word, a bright light enveloped the whole room. The journals began emitting more magic, and Hermione became surrounded by glowing words, weaving and spiraling around her, in a protective cocoon. Outside of her protective ball of words, light figures appeared, all gorgeous and ethereal beings. Some male, some female; three of which she recognized. The same personages the she met in the grotto nodded at her as she became even more enveloped in light, until it was too blinding for her to keep her eyes open.

Hermione felt weightless, like she was floating through the air, and suddenly the light dimmed around her, and she felt herself grow heavier, and heavier, and then she was normal again; the light completely gone. Tentatively, she opened her eyes, and found herself at the Plaque; all traces of Fleur and Aria gone. The Tomes and Stone gone too.

Casting a quick charm to check the date, she was relieved to know that it worked. December twenty-fourth nineteen-seventy. The magic worked. She had made it to the past. Fumbling through her beaded bag, she noticed the Books and Stone had appeared there. She pushed around a few objects before finding her goal. Pulling out a vial of an iridescent potion, she downed its contents. She gagged; it was sickly sweet.

Slowly a warm feeling filled her body, running through her veins. The clothing she wore grew larger around her as she shrunk to the size of a ten year old Hermione. It was a rather peculiar feeling, though not unpleasant like Polyjuice. It was just warm, and tingly. It only lasted for a minute of so, then faded. Hermione conjured up a mirror, and laughed. Her voice was much higher, and her body much more petite..

Strangely enough, she was a touch different as a ten year old now, then when she was a ten year old the first time. She was much thinner, almost unhealthily, much like her older self, who was still emaciated by the war. Her teeth remained the same too, no buck teeth this time. Overall, she looked rather sickly and unhealthy for a girl her age, and it saddened her a bit. The goal was to fix what happened. Hermione didn't want to have her bony body remind her of the horrors she want though.

Sighing, Hermione knew there was nothing that she could do right now, Besides she had a mission to focus on. She transfigured her clothing into things more suitable for a ten year old witch and shrunk down her winter cloak so it would fit. Checking her neck to ensure the necklace Fleur gave her was secured there, she made her way out into the bitter cold of the French Alps during December. It was evening now, and the light was waning.

Not wanting to waste light while she had it, she quickly started the journey to the Lemercier's home, which she had located in the future. Or at least, she located the wards, she never did actually see their was getting colder as the light grew dimmer, so Hermione cast a warming charm for good measure. Gulping, she hoped the French ministry didn't track underage witches' and wizards' magic. If they did, she would be in a jam. Theoretically speaking, she should have appeared on the French ministry's register of Witches and Wizards when she arrived the past. The Lady was smart enough to ensure that.

Even with the warming charm, Hermione was cold, and let out a shiver, her breath visible in the air. Pulling her winter cloak around her more tightly, she stumbled through snow banks on her way to the Lemercier's residence. She made it after a few more hours of walking. It was well past dark at that point, and she had already cast a plethora of warming charms, and had used a lumos to navigate her way through the dark forest. Stumbling against the barriers of the wards, she violently shivered wondering how she could possibly get inside the protective barriers.

Despair settled over her heart. She sunk to the ground, her back against the wards. No warming or heating charm could possibly hope to abate the chill that seemed to pierce Hermione to her bones. Hermione vaguely thought back to a book she had read when she was younger about frostbite. It would start on her fingers and toes first, they might even fall off. Hermione couldn't fathom how long she was out in the chill for, but when she was about to lose consciousness, she fell to the ground, the wards no longer supporting her; two dark figures looming over her. That was the last thing she could recall, falling into darkness only moments later.

 **{Incantations}**

When Hermione awoke, it was on a comfortable chaise next to a roaring fire, with blankets piled on top of her. Blearily, she noticed a dark-haired man sitting in a chair beside the fire, looking into it. Behind her, there was the unmistakable sound of footsteps clicking across the floor. A second later, a kind looking woman with rosy cheeks and pale curls bouncing behind her entered Hermione's vision. The woman immediately noticed Hermione, and rushed to her side.

After the woman cast some spells on Hermione, she stepped back and got the man's attention. Together, they pulled chairs in front of her, and began speaking.

"Hello dear one, I am Irène Demercier… I am the Lady of this chateau…" The woman, Irène, said softly. She spoke in French, Hermione noted.

The woman smiled gently at Hermione, and continued, "We," She turned to look at the man beside her, "found you at the border of our wards, shivering, with frostbite setting in…" She trailed off at the end, and look at Hermione directly in the eyes.

"Tell me, how exactly do you feel? I did everything I could manage. I did get rid of the frostbite, and now you are running a bit of a fever…"

The woman was very concerned, Hermione observed. Though the lady kept a gentle and calming mask, underneath it all worry ran rampant of her features. Hermione glanced at the man sitting beside her. He had yet to speak, and his face gave away none of his thoughts or emotions. Focusing her attention back on the kind woman, Hermione smiled a bit.

"I am alright, merci…" She replied in her perfected, natural-sounding French.

The woman lit up, the worry subsiding a bit.

"Ah, fantastique! Here is a pepper up potion for you to take… It should help with the fever."

Hermione took the proffered potion and swallowed it quickly. For some strange reason she trusted Irène. Hermione immediately felt the effects of the potion and sat up on the chaise a bit more.

The woman smiled a bit mischievously, though not unkindly. "Now," she said leaning forward, "Do tell your story. I for one would like to know why and how a young girl who looks be be barely ten or eleven got past our repelling wards and to our protective wards…"

Hermione looked at both of the people sitting in front of her and began her tale, starting from the moment she turned eleven and got her hogwarts letter, up until the point of her stumbling to their wards.

The couple sat there in silence for a moment, not entirely sure of what to make of the girl. Her story seemed quite impossible, even for magical folks.

The man then took in a breath, preparing to speak, "I am inclined to believe you," He started, his voice firm, but quiet. His partner looked at him as if he were mad, but before she could interject he continued, "If you truly are from the future, and you are familiar with the Delacours, find a way to prove it."

Hermione smiled at the soft spoken man, and reached into her clothing and pulled out a silver pendant in the shape of a tree, with little golden apples gleaming in the nearby firelight. She took it off and handed it to him. The woman gasped a little beside him, and he examined it closer. Turning it over he saw exactly what he was looking for, the Lemercier Family Crest.

The woman look disbelieving at the item in the man's hand, then reached into her own robes and pulled out an identical pendant.

With wide eyes she stuttered, "That-that is…"

The man nodded. He then looked back at Hermione, "We believe you. Appoline has foretold of you before…"

The woman looked at her seriously, and squared her shoulders. "Well, since what you are saying is true, we will help you. You mentioned a blood adoption, yes?"

Hermione nodded in reply.

The woman stood up and walked out a door. A few minutes later she came back with ancient book. Flipping through it she stopped on a particular page with a triumphant smirk.

"Here it is…" She showed to page to the man who was still sitting, He nodded his head and the pair shared a look. Together the set about conjuring various objects into stone bowls, and candlesticks. The man then pulled out an obsidian dagger from the depths of his robes.

"Alright, little Faon, this is an ancient spell, coming from the oldest magics. It will make you a part of our House forever, we will be your parents... Are you prepared for that?" The woman asked.

Hermione nodded sliding off the chaise and going over to where the two people stood beside a pedestal with a basin at the top of it. First the woman sliced open her left hand with the gleaming black knife, then passed it to the man who sliced open his right hand. They each let their blood drop into the basin until it was halfway full.

They then turned to Hermione and instructed her to slice open both of her hands with the knife, and let her blood fill the rest of the basin. She did as she was told and watched as her blood spilled from the wounded hands into the stone vessel. When it was full, the woman took her right hand and and the man took her left. Together they let the blood from their open wounds mix, then began chanting softly. As they murmured the incantation, the hand wounds healed leaving perfect skin behind.

When the wounds completely healed they dipped a hand into the basin of blood and took a quick sip of it. They gestured for Hermione to do the same, Which she did, albeit reluctantly. Finally they dipped their hands in once more and began tracing a series of runes, ending with their respective House Crests on Hermione's arms. When they finished, the blood sank into her skin, leaving no trace of it behind. They uttered two more words and a calming blue magic overcame the three of them.

The woman look a little teary eyed at Hermione as they finished, while the man vanished all evidence of what occured only moments before. After what looked like a little battle with herself, the woman pulled Hermione into a hug and whispered, "I have always wanted a child, and you have given me one…"

Hermione could feel little tears splatter onto her skin, as the woman cried. The man too, came over and hugged her, all three of them hugging in a little sitting room, in front of a flickering fire. Hermione stood there for a moment, not entirely sure how to react. Slowly though, she too hugged them. It was at this moment that Hermione knew she would truly be able to make a difference.

 **{Incantations}**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own _Harry Potter_ or the _Harry Potter Universe, they belong to the Lovely JK Rowling._**

Hmm, it has been awhile since I have released a chapter, so I am terribly sorry for that, however, I have been quite busy, and haven't found any time to upload new chapters... I have a terribly dull next week, so no worries, uploads will come more frequently, at least this week! Hermione is in the past! Finally! I have been dying to release this! It seems as though the storyline had been dragging along a bit, but we are finally here! Thank you to everyone who has followed this story up until now, I sincerely appreciate your tenacity. Also, Hermione is in France, and the people in France speak French. I wanted this to be abundantly clear. Also, there will be points when Hermione goes to England, and she will have a French accent so she can keep up her cover story. However, I have yet to decide if I want to continue to write in an accent. I am leaning towards not doing it... So leave your opinions in the comments...

Sincerely,

Miss of the Manor


	11. Tales of Whimsy

When the group of three released their grips upon each other, Hermione noticed she was quite tired, and strangely _achy._ She didn't know quite what to make of that, but she didn't let it bother her, and instead looked up at the kind faces staring back down at her.

The woman, Irène, had light bluish-grey eyes that glittered in the dancing firelight. Much like many of the french women Hermione had encountered, she had light silvery-blonde hair that fell into loose curls down the length of her back. She was quite petit, smaller than what Hermione stood at before her deaging potion. And her plump lips displayed a generous smile.

The man, whose name was still unknown to Hermione, took on a much more controlled look. His navy blue eyes were almost unreadable, and his dark hair coiffed into perfection gave off a distinctively aristocratic air. He made Hermione look tiny as a Faerie, and next to his wife He looked like a building in the downtown of London. They were quite odd next to each other.

They both wore expensively tailored robes from the looks of it, and both carried themselves with a dignity and haughtiness only a pureblood could have. Hermione was certain that if she saw them on the streets, she would be wary of them. It was a good thing they were allies.

The man spoke, startling Hermione from her musings, "Dearling, it would be best for you to retire. It has been a long night, and it will stretch on yet. We will show you to your rooms."

Hermione agreed with him. It was a long night, and the achy feeling had gotten distinctively worse. However before they left the room she said, "Wait… What is your name? I never did hear it."

The corners of the man's mouth tugged upwards in a smirk, "Laurent Lemercier… Now come, you require rest."

He and Irène waltzed out of the door, Hermione trailing them, wondering how they could walk so gracefully. They went up a flight of stairs and own a series of corridors that Hermione was positive she would not remember how to navigate again in the morning.

Hermione felt immense relief when they arrived at what she assumed would be her rooms, the achy feeling starting to take over her limbs more forcefully. They called for a house elf to get one of Irène's night gowns, which they shrunk down for Hermione to sleep in. She changed behind a screen, then the couple settled Hermione down in the lush bed where she promptly fell asleep, exhaustion and pain overwhelming her system.

 **{Tales of Whimsy}**

The next morning she awoke feeling refreshed, ready to start her mission. Not long after she woke up, the same house elf as last night appeared before her.

"Young Miss, Asterix has been assigned to help Young Miss. Asterix was told to give the Young Miss this dress." The house elf help up a beautiful green velvet dress.

Hermione was conflicted. She didn't want a house elf to do everything for her… Although she wasn't crusading S.P.E.W anymore, she still disliked the way many house elves were treated. Pursing her lips, she resolved to talk to the Lemercier's about it later. She didn't want to risk upsetting poor Asterix, who had come to her room to bring her a dress.

Smiling at the house elf, Hermione thanked her and went to the screen to change into the gorgeous dress. When she came back to the main area of the room, Asterix was still there, fidgeting with the hem of her garment.

When she looked up and saw Hermione she jumped a bit, saying, "Miss looks lovely today. Asterix is going to take Young Miss down to the Dining Room now."

Hermione nodded her head and followed the little house elf through the complex passageways, and down the staircase where they proceeded to go through another series of passages. When they finally made it to the dining room, Hermione had completely forgotten how to get to the stairway.

Inside, Irène and Laurent sat at a small table, plates of food in front of three chairs. Hermione sat at the chair where the last plate of food was. Irène grinned at Hermione and began conversing with her.

"Ah, my Petit Faon, I'm glad you made it down here alright. I trust you slept well?" She asked pleasantly, taking a piece of her croissant and eating it.

Hermione swallowed the bits of her food and replied, "Oui, merci for your hospitality."

The woman laughed. When she managed to bring herself down to little giggles she said, "You are now our child." She gestured to Laurant who was sitting beside her. "You don't need to thank us for such trivial things… Besides I have always wanted a child, particularly a girl. You have given that to me."

Laurent nodded in agreement. He seemed to be a man of few words, Hermione noticed. Irène seemed to do most of the talking, which suited him just fine.

"On another note," the grown woman said, "We must see to you getting all your necessities. I believe a trip to French Wizarding Fashion District is necessary."

Hermione was surprised. "Oh, it's no problem… We can just transfigure some of the clothing I brought with me… You don't need to buy me anything. It is enough that you have done a blood adoption."

Irène looked positively horrified at the thought. She looked sternly at Hermione, "No, this is something I want to do. I want the chance to be able to mother you. You are officially part of this Family, and you will let me act like a mother to you. I understand that you were not born to me, but that doesn't make you any less mine, especially after last night." She finished with a tone of finality.

Hermione trembled a little. After the loss of her parents, she had felt very alone, despite knowing that Harry and Ron were as close as family, it wasn't the same. She missed the warm hugs of her mother, and the supportive words of her father. When she came to the past, she knew that she would never have the chance to reform that relationship, and that hurt. But now, the chance to be a part of a family was presented to her, and she found herself wanting to take it.

Hermione looked up at the two people in front of her and made her mind.

"Okay…" She said softly.

Irène lit up, and even Laurant grinned a bit, his eyes brightening.

"Fantastique! I would say we should go today, but it is Christmas Day, and not many places are open…" She noted. "You might just have to do with some more of my transfigured dresses until tomorrow."

Hermione nodded, these dresses, though transfigured, were very obviously luxurious, more so than anything Hermione had worn before. Hermione thought she could probably make it a day more.

Irène became serious again. "There are some other important things we need to discuss. First off, you are now legally, and magically Hermione Lemercier, and as such, you will carry great weight and influence with you in the wizarding world. You need to know how to navigate pureblood culture, you need to know al; social cues, and how to carry yourself. You need to act the part of a perfect little pureblooded girl. If your aim is to get into the pureblood circles in England, you will need to know everything, have it be your nature."

She paused to look at Hermione who nodded; she knew that when she came back in time this would likely be that case.

"I will train you. I know everything about the UK's pureblood circles and families, you will sound, look, and act just like all of them. The stars really shine upon you… The circumstances for you to be here are impeccable. Laurent and I went into seclusion fifteen or so years ago due to a fall out with my family. Laurent himself is the last living heir to his family name. You are in a perfect position to interlope into the pureblooded community. In fact the only people we ever associate with often is the Delacours, but they are already your allies, so that shouldn't be a problem." The woman said in a matter-of-factly manner.

"Speaking of the Delacours, We are set to celebrate the sixth with them." She went back to eating but then seemed to remember something else. "And on New Years we have been invited to my family's Annual Ball. Why they invited us, I haven't a clue, but this would be a good opportunity to introduce you," she looked at Hermione, "to the purebloods."

Hermione liked the idea. The sooner she could become associated with the purebloods the better. If she could get them on her side before Voldemort, he wouldn't be able to usurp the government quite so fast. He was resourceful, but without the backing of the purebloods, he wouldn't get far quickly.

"I like that idea. Let's do it." Hermione said to Irène.

"We have to begin preparations then. You will need to know some things before we go. Finish up quickly, then we will go to the library."

Hermione heard library and didn't hesitate to eat everything else in a rush, so she could follow the older woman to the most wondrous place in existence.

When they arrived, Hermione loved it immediately. While it was nowhere near the grandeur of the Library of the Lady, it was enough to make Hermione sequel girlighly. Irène laughed and led her to some stiff backed chairs and a circular table in the corner of the room.

"Sit there while I go and get some materials to teach you."

Hermione complied. Only moments later Irène was back with several books in her arms.

"First off, you are to read these three books. After you finish that, we will begin etiquette lessons." She placed three books in front of Hermione: Basic Etiquette for the Proper Pureblood Lady, Intermediate Etiquette for the Proper Pureblood Lady, and Advanced Etiquette for the Proper Pureblood Lady.

Hermione tired to be positive about the tomes, but they looked terribly dull, especially for a bookworm such as herself. Not only that, but they were absurdly large. She was pulled from her thoughts when Irène said that they were going to work on other things today. Hermione sighed in relief.

"For now, you must learn the histories of both mine and my husbands family, as well as other purebloods. It may not seem important, but you need to know who to give proper respect and who you can treat more informally." Irène said.

"Let's begin with Laurant's family." She said placing a tome in front of Hermione.

They covered and drilled history all morning, stopping for a quick lunch, then they were back at it. By the end she could recite the entire Lemercier family history in her sleep, so they decided to move onto Irène's family.

"Now, my family will be more difficult, because I still have living relatives, which might give you some trouble. Here is a copy of the book my family uses to keep the record of the children born into it. I was kicked out of the family years ago, so I no longer appear in here. " She said giving Hermione a leather bound book with silver peacocks adorning the front along with a House Crest.

When Hermione looked more closely she saw that the Emblem adorning the cover was none other than the Malfoy Crest. She looked up at the woman in front of her disbelieving. She, the kind hearted woman who wanted to take Hermione in as her own child was a _Malfoy?_ It hardly made sense. Irène could see Hermione shock and laughed.

"Yes, I am a Malfoy. The Malfoy line came from France years ago, and to this day, they still send their female heirs to Beauxbatons for their education. That is where I met Laurent…"

Hermione sensed that they were entering into delicate waters, so she changed the subject. "Why don't we go about learning the history, yes?"

So they did. They drilled it into the evening, and finally stopping at supper. Hermione was more than prepared to face questions about her supposed family now. Tomorrow would be all about learning of the other families of importance, then the day after that etiquette. By the time the ball rolled around, Hermione would be the poster child of a perfect pureblood Lady.

As the newly formed family sat around the table for dinner, Hermione was drilled questions about each of their families. She answered each one perfectly. While they continued eating Hermione noticed that the strange achy feeling she had was gone. Curious as to the origin of such pain, she asked the two people sitting across from her.

They seemed amused by it, conjuring a mirror for her to look into. She was shocked by what she saw.

Staring back at her was someone much more refined looking than Hermione remembered being. She had darker hair much like Laurant's, and curls tumbling softly down her back just the same as Irène's. Her eyes had become a startling pale blue, a shade lighter than Irène's own light orbs. Hermione's face remained much the same, though Sse gained higher and more prominent cheekbones, and softer jawline. To her dismay, her waif-like body hadn't changed at all. She still looked like Hermione, but with subtle changes.

"It's from the blood adoption, isn't it," she asked, lowering the mirror to look at her adoptive parents. They nodded, grinning back at her. She didn't hate that her looks had changed, if anything she was glad she looked more like the people who were supposed to be her parents; it would help her backstory. They finished eating, and Hermione was escorted back to her rooms by Asterix. The Lemerciers had some business to attend to, which is why they left her in the house elf's capable hands.

As Hermione lie in bed that night, her mind drifted toward all that had happened to her since she met the traveler and his strange tale of ruins, and of a strange glowing creature. She giggled knowing that his peculiar story was all truth, and there was more oddity to it than even what he had imagined. One thing that had pressed upon Hermione's mind though, was what had occured in the grotto. The lady had said something about receiving Gifts… later the Powers that Be visited Hermione and gave her special powers… For some reason, Hermione felt that they were connected; the Gifts and the Powers. It was quite likely that the Lady had received something akin to what Hermione had gotten from the personages, that much was blatantly clear. What confused Hermione was why she had gone through something similar to the Lady. The Lady had accomplished much more than Hermione would ever hope to do, and yet, she was visited by the same beings and was given Gifts.

Hermione decided not to dwell on it too much and instead focus on her mission. That was why she was here, after all. So as her thoughts drifted, she thought less and less of it, until it was at the back of her consciousness. One thought remained though, and it was one Hermione couldn't shake, no matter how hard she tried. _Why did she feel like this was all part of something bigger than just her and the Lady?_

 **{Tales of Whimsy}**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own _Harry Potter_ or the _Harry Potter Universe, they belong to the Lovely JK Rowling._**

I will be honest there isn't much I have to say this update, but I will reveal that some of the Marauders will be introduced next chapter! I hope to update within the next day or two, so be ready!

Sincerely,

Miss of the Manor


	12. An Étoile in the Fabric of Society

After having been to both Diagon Alley and the French counterpart, she could honestly say she prefered France. Unlike the rest of Paris, La Rue de Épanoui was very clean, in fact it almost glittered. Well, at least the part she saw. She imagined that not all parts of the magical area were quite so well kept, but her current area was where all of the most affluent and wealthy wizarding families went to go shopping.

Nonetheless, while they shopped, Hermione got at least a few dozen new robes, dresses, shoes, and so much more. Why she needed the superfluous amount she got, she didn't know, but Irène seemed perfectly content to drop a fortune on Hermione, and the bookworm didn't even want to try and argue with her. Laurent had some business to do today, but when he finished they were all going to meet at the French Branch of Gringotts. While the two ladies waited for him, they did some other light shopping, including stopping by a massive bookstore, which Hermione insisted upon. They were able to waste a few hours in the bookstore, and by the time Hermione had gone through only a quarter of it, they were due to meet Laurent at the bank.

Hermione wondered the reason for a trip to the bank vaults. She couldn't fathom why they would want her to be there with them, unless they wanted to open a vault for her, which wasn't very likely. Most witches with pureblood parents usually have a vault for their dowry, but they would never be able to touch that, and even if the Lemerciers didn't think like that, it was likely they would have at least a pseudo-dowry open to keep up her appearance as their daughter. If they wanted to give her money, they would have just given her a pouch of it, not open an vault, so Hermione had absolutely no idea why she would be at the bank with them.

Laurent greeted them in the lobby, then proceeded to lead them to a cart that would take them into the depths of the bank. Down and down they went, they seemed to never stop going downwards, they passed through the waterfall that would make all enchantments wear off, and later they passed a dragon, then another, and one more. It was a good ten minutes before they made it to their destination. Hermione was freezing and anxious to get out of the cart, but when it rolled to a stop in front of vault seven, her mouth fell open in shock. She knew that they would be going deep into the banks but… vault number _seven?_ It was practically unheard of. The Lestranges didn't even have one this deep and well guarded.

The Goblin opened the vault, and if Hermione was surprised before, nothing could compare to the utter consternation she felt when she saw exactly what was in the vault. Piles and piles of galleons glittered back at her as far as she could see. She wondered exactly what the family did to receive such wealth. Hopefully nothing too terrible. Her guardians walked into the vault, Hermione right behind them, intent on finding a particular area it seemed. They walked for a while between organized stacks and piles of money before reaching a series of more doors. Laurent opened one closer to the right with his wand, and beckoned Hermione to follow him. She did, and gasped at what she saw inside. It was a jewelry room, full of ancient and glittering heirlooms. Sapphire brooches, diamond earrings, emerald armlets, and so much more winked at her.

"Ma Fée, choose as many as you would like. As our daughter, this all belongs to you too." Laurent said, placing a hand on her back.

Hermione didn't know what to say. This was too much. They had already provided her with so much, and this- this was on an entirely new level than clothing.

Irène seemed to notice Hermione's hesitance and crouched down beside her to say, "You don't have to take anything. We don't want to overwhelm you, that wasn't our intention. In our excitement of finally having a child, we wanted to pamper you, make you a part of the family. Most pureblood girls your age already have several family heirlooms in their possession. It is a sign of endearment, and we wanted to do the same for you."

After knowing their intentions, Hermione was much less reluctant to take some. She was still shy about it, but much less afraid. She was still struggling with the idea of being a pureblood and this act, although touching, served as a reminder of that. She knew in her heart that she would always be a muggleborn, and the Grangers would always be her parents, but she was still hesitant to embrace her new blood. She didn't want to feel as though she was turning her back toward her muggle origins. Turning her back against the Grangers.

Yet at the same time, She knew that wasn't who she was anymore. Hermione Granger no longer existed in records, in life even, and she wouldn't for years to come. Right now, she was Hermione Lemercier, pureblood daughter of Laurent and Irène Lemercier. That is who she had to be, now and forever. There was no going back to the days where she could be proud of her muggleborn heritage, no going back to the days where she could remain in ignorance, no going back to the days she could be just Hermione Granger.

She thought of the Lemerciers then, and how they had been so kind to take her in, to even do a blood adoption. They were treating her like their own daughter. Her, a person in whom they had never met, her, a girl they found lying in the cold, her, a broken and damaged girl.

The words the Lady spoke came back to her then, " _You have had a hard life in your time. Seize this opportunity to try and have a more joyful childhood. Your happiness is just as important as the friends you hope to save, remember that…"_

She was still trying to be the war heroine who had survived the bloodiest magical battle to date. And she was still that person, but she was also a child. She was only ten years old, and she needed to let herself act like a ten year old.

So she walked further into the room and chose her favorite pieces of jewelry. Bracelets, necklaces, earrings, armlets, brooches, rings, and even some tiaras were selected and put in appropriate boxes. When she had finished she turned to the Lemerciers who were still standing at the entrance to the room. She walked over to them and pulled them into a hug. They picked up her tiny body and hugged her back.

In their ears Hermione quietly whispered, "Merci Maman, Papa."

The couple pulled her even closer. Irène was crying, and even Laurent let a few drops fall.

Hermione would always be a Granger, there was no changing that. But, she was also a Lemercier, who had two parents that wanted to let them love her.

When they put her down, Laurent pulled a velvet box from the depths of his robe. Hermione to the proffered box from him, admiring it. She opened the box and pulled out an ornate signet ring. The Lemercier crest was engraved upon it, and was surrounded by several blue gemstones. She placed it on her middle finger and admired the way it glittered in the hazy light of the vault. She thanked her parents, and they all happily got back in the cart, intent to get home.

Hermione's lessons came more quickly to her after the day that she decided to accept her new identity. All of the etiquette she was so loath to learn came to her easily. She truely acted the part of the Pureblood Princess. Not a soul would ever be able to tell the difference between her and another pureblooded girl. Irène was very proud of Hermione; she had come far in her lessons.

Secretly, she was also proud that she accepted her new blood so quickly. After having heard her past, she figured it would be hard for the bibliophile to transition to the opulent life she would be given by her and Laurent. She was also happy that Hermione thought of her as a mother to her. She prepared herself for the girl to not take well to someone trying to be her mother, but when she called her Maman, Irène couldn't help but cry.

It was December thirtieth now, and Irène was certain that Hermione was ready to face the pureblood society at the Malfoy annual ball tomorrow. She walked the same inborn grace as Irène and had the same quiet confidence as Laurent. Hermione had even performed remarkably well in her dance lessons. Irène knew that she would impress even her brother, who was particularly cutting and judgemental.

 **{An Étoile in the Fabric of Society}**

It was the day of the ball, and Hermione was nervous. Extremely so. It would be her first time in the eyes of the Purebloods. She had to impress them. So as she got dressed in one of her new silver dress robes, put on heirloom jewelry, and had her hair coiffed into perfection, she ran through proper social cues, and drilled her knowledge of every pureblood family she could think of. Even as they portkeyed to Malfoy Manor, she thought of everything she had learned.

Laurent and Irène looked at the Hermione amusedly, knowing exactly what she was doing in her mind. They had gotten to know her well the past few days, and they knew better than to even try and pull her out of what she was doing. So they merely guided her through Malfoy Manor and to the doors that led into the ballroom. When they were announced, all eyes turned to look at them as they glided down the stairs into the main area.

At the bottom they were greeted by the Malfoy Family.

The oldest one stepped forward and gave Laurent an incline of his head, and a brief handshake, then said, "Lord Lemercier, it is a pleasure to have you and your family at our humble get together."

Laurent replied with similar pleasantries.

The oldest Malfoy then turned to Irène and kissed her on her hand. She smiled at him, which he returned.

"My dearest sister, I am thrilled to see you again after these many years."

"I say the same dear brother."

His attention then turned to Hermione who stood on the other side of Laurent. Hermione held out her hand for him to kiss which he did politely.

"And you must be Lady Hermione. I am so pleased to meet you for the first time. I am Lord Abraxas Malfoy, your uncle." He smiled genuinely at her. Despite her knowing how cruel the Malfoy's could be, she knew that they stood by family before all else.

"Lord Malfoy, It is a pleasure." Hermione said, falling into a light curtsey, though stubling a bit over her english- she had to keep her appearance up of course.

Abraxas eyebrows raised slightly. He was impressed by her grace, especially for one as young as she. He turned back to Laurent and gestured toward his family.

"Please allow me to introduce my family. This," he said taking the woman who stood next to him by the the hand, "is my wife, Lady Arabelle Malfoy."

All three of the Lemerciers greeted her formally, and she stepped back to her husband's side.

"And my son, Lord Lucius Malfoy."

The blonde haired boy standing next to him stepped forward and greeted the elder Lemerciers with ease, then turned to Hermione, whom he kissed her and and bowed. Hermione returned his gesture, curtsying just as low.

"Lady Lemercier, I am glad to become acquainted with you. I regret we have not met previous to now," He said in perfect french, noting Hermione's enease earlier.

"I share your sentiments, Lord Malfoy, it is a shame we have met just now. We must catch up for lost time, yes?" Hermione responded with a quirk of her lips.

"Of course, my Lady."

Abraxas seemed to be quite pleased with their interaction and put a hand on his son's shoulder. "Why don't you escort Hermione tonight. I'm sure she could use someone to introduce her to everyone."

"Of course, father, I would be more than pleased to escourt the lovely Lady Lemercier tonight." Lucius said, proffering an arm for her to take.

She did and they walked away from their parents, who began talking, filling each other in on the past few years, the pair supposed. Lucius was a perfect gentleman and escort. It is no wonder Hermione was getting jealous glared from many of the ladies in the ballroom. It made her laugh internally. Apparently, they needed to do more research on her family. She was certain their faces would say something else if they knew Lucius and her were cousins.

The pair decided to dance. While dancing Hermione learned that Lucius was thirteen and in his second year at Hogwarts. When he asked Hermione about schooling she said that she was wanting to attend Beauxbatons, like her father and mother. He agreed that she would do well there. Lucius was delighted to find out Hermione was rather intelligent, and could carry on a rather impressive conversation about magic. After they danced three songs, a break was in order, and Lucius decided to introduce her to some of the influential families of the UK.

The first stop was with the Blacks, specifically Orion's branch of the family. He was intrigued by Hermione, Lucius could tell. She was knowledgeable in magic, and as graceful as a fully grown pureblood witch. Walburga too, found that Hermione was quite graceful, and looked at her with approval. Hermione on the other hand, was fascinated with Orion's sons, Sirius and Regulus Black. Sirius was quite the troublemaker, if the rumors were true, and Regulus, as if to be the complete opposite of his brother, was charming, and never caused a ruckus.

They were both quite young, Regulus being nine and Sirius being eleven. Sirius seemed to dislike Hermione for some reason, though that reason was unclear. Regulus though, he was enchanted by Hermione, immediately asking Hermione for a dance. She accepted and Lucius was left in the presence of the elder Blacks and their estranged son. When the nine and ten year olds came back, Lucius swept Hermione to the next family. A few covert glances back though, Lucius saw Orion and Walburga observing Hermione and searching for her parents.

They visited many influential families: the Lestranges, the Averys, the Yaxleys, the Rosiers, the Crouches, the Notts, the Parkinsons- were interested in her in the same manner as the Blacks. Lucius was impressed she managed to charm every family of the sacred twenty-eight she had been introduced to, a feat not many would be able to say. Although Lucius loathed to do it, he had to introduce her to as many people as he could- it was his job as her escort. He plastered on a fake, charming smile, and directed her toward the Potter family. They and their son James were talking with the Shaklebolts. Lucius seriously considered turning around, but propriety pushed him forward. Introductions went as smoothly as they could have gone. Hermione seemed to have a natural charm about her- even the people who detested Malfoys and their blood seemed to get along with Hermione.

When the ball was over, and all the guests returned home, Lucius privately decided that Hermione was an enigma that he would possibly never understand.

 **{An Étoile in the Fabric of Society}**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own _Harry Potter_ or the _Harry Potter Universe,_ they belong to the Lovely JK Rowling.**

Unlike last chapter, I do have a lot to say in this chapter. First thing, I have been seriously been considering making my chapters longer. So far the average number of words per chapter is roughly 2,500. I would be increasing that to about 7,000. If you think this length is good, please let me know! I have also been thinking about putting a recap of the previous chapter at the beginning of every chapter. Would that help with the flow of the story? Please let me know. I have made the decision to make Lucius Malfoy a bit younger in this fic. There are some parts later in the story that would benefit from this, that is why he is younger. Other than that, thank you for reading, and I will try to update soon!

Sincerely,

Miss of the Manor


	13. Dreams of Sapphire Silk

It was January sixth nineteen-seventy-one, and the Lemercier family was preparing to go over to the Delacours to celebrate La Galette des Rois. Irène had sent them a letter beforehand, explaining they had a house guest who was staying with them for an 'undetermined amount of time' and would be present the celebration as well. The house guest was naturally Hermione and luckily for her, the Delacours were delighted to have another person over.

It was odd, she decided as she reflected upon the past few days. Any normal person in her situation would be plunged deep in the throes of anxiety-induced panic; she, though, wasn't. A peculiar calm settled over her, and at times she felt as though she were in a dream. A quick pinch ended all thoughts of that.

Hermione was still quite lost in her musings when Irène came to get her so they could apparate over to the Delacours.

"Hermione, Ma Fée, we must be leaving now," Irène said, pulling Hermione from her stupor.

Over the past week, Laurent and Irène had been calling Hermione a number of pet names, but Fée seemed to stick the best. She was quite dainty, much to her chagrin, and it seemed the Lemerciers were hell-bent upon reminding her of it. Hermione thanked the stars for sending her to France; the food was delicious, and all of the delectable pastries were chock-full of butter. She would look normal again soon enough. Hopefully.

Hermione turned her attention to Irène and smiled. "Of course, I've just finished getting ready."

Both ladies walked down to the family sitting room where Laurent was waiting.

After having practised navigating the seemingly endless maze of corridors for a while, she had finally learned how to get to and from her room to most of the main areas of the house. Naturally, the passage to the library was one Hermione could recall in her sleep, though she wasn't far from that with the rest. The sitting room was another room with which she was well acquainted. She and Laurent had made it a tradition of sorts to have tea in the evenings there. They would often sit in front of the fire reading while sipping the hot beverage.

Laurent seemed glad to see them walk in, at least from what Hermione could tell. She had gotten better at reading the subtle lines of his face and could distinguish the little emotions flitting across on occasion, but she was nowhere near proficient in the art of differentiating them, or even recognizing them.

The man offered both his arms to Hermione and Irène, which they took, and a distinctive pop later, they appeared in the entryway of the Chateau Delacour. Hermione was quite awed. It was a gorgeous area, floor-to-ceiling marble pillars lining either side of the massive room, the occasional mahogany door situated between them. At the very end of the chamber was a massive staircase leading up to the upper levels of the manor.

A woman was there waiting for them, and stepped forward to greet Irène and Laurent. When she finished her eyes zeroed in on Hermione.

Immediately, Hermione could sense that this woman was Fleur's grandmother. They looked so strikingly similar, Hermione felt a pang of loss for the part-veela she left behind. There was one key difference between the women, though; it was their eyes. While Fleur had the deepest ocean-blue eyes Hermione had ever seen, this woman's had an iridescent purple sheen to them. They were quite enthralling, and Hermione could hardly muster the strength to look away. There was a glimmer in them too, one that seemed to look right through her.

It was recognition, she realised. This woman recognized her. Hermione felt a deep warmth spread all over her body. It started at the very center of her being and spread to her fingers and toes. It was pleasant, and Hermione reveled in its comforting warmth.

The woman smiled knowingly at the girl. Unbeknownst to herself, Hermione began emanating a very faint golden glow. The Demerciers didn't seem to notice, though they weren't looking for it, either. Madame Delacour though, _she_ definitely noticed.

Hermione was still basking in the warmth when the woman stepped forward and introduced herself as Madame Avelaine Delacour. Avelaine escorted them to the dining room, where the rest of the celebrants had gathered, when the glow and warmth started to leave Hermione's body. When it was gone, Hermione found herself missing it a bit, but she shrugged it off.

In the dining room, Hermione was met with four more curious glances. One was a girl who looked much like Avelaine, although she couldn't be older than fourteen or fifteen; she had the same hair and kind face, but her eyes were the same dark blue as Fleur's. She must be Apolline, the mother of the aforementioned part-veela. Two boys were also present, though Hermione didn't know who they were. She assumed they were Avelaine's sons because, although the family resemblance wasn't as strong as with the girl, they shared many of Avelainels characteristics. The last person in the room was a man, who must be the father of two boys. They all shared the same dark auburn hair and deep blue eyes.

"Who is that, mother?" asked the youngest boy in the room. He appeared to be about the same age as Hermione.

Avelaine looked part furious, and part embarrassed. Hermione couldn't fathom why.

"Leon, please, use manners," the woman hissed at the boy.

He blushed a bit, looking abashed, then turned to Hermione and bowed gracefully, taking her hand to place a delicate kiss upon it. "My apologies, my name is Leon Delacour, at your service." But then, he grinned and gave her a charming little wink.

Hermione could feel her cheeks redden. For a ten-or-eleven-year-old, he was quite suave.

Next to the enamoured bookworm, Avelaine bubbled with fury. She reached out and unceremoniously pulled Leon away from Hermione by his ear.

"Leon!" she whispered venomously.

The boy winced. Hermione was confused, he hadn't done anything wrong, or at least she didn't think he had. As Avelaine pulled him off to one side to berate him, the man stepped forward.

"I apologise for my son, he was out of line," the man said. Hermione still didn't quite understand what he had done wrong, but didn't argue with him. "I am Gabriel Delacour." He too placed a kiss on her hand and bowed. She curtsied back.

He introduced the other two children as Louis and Apolline respectively. Each gave the customary pureblood bow and curtsy with astounding grace.

Hermione glanced to Leon, who was was moving to stand next to his siblings in front of her. He looked thoroughly chastised she noted.

She curtsied once more to all of them, then introduced herself. "I am Hermione Lemercier, I am very pleased to make your acquaintance."

Leon looked like he wanted to say something, but Apolline elbowed him and the words never made it out.

Avelaine smiled at the family of three, her eyes sparkling with a knowing glint. "Why don't we begin the feast, non? There is much for you to explain."

Irène agreed and everyone sat down to dig into the scrumptious French cuisine. Conversation was light at first, but it wasn't long before they had delved into deeper topics.

The man, Gabriel, straightened up in his chair, and his carefree manner, which until now had been carefree, morphed into a serious expression. "Do tell us how you managed to acquire a daughter so quickly. It has only been days since the last time we met," he said plainly, addressing the elephant in the room.

Silence pervaded the room, not even the clink of silverware could be heard on the plates.

Laurent looked at the man carefully. He sighed, rubbing his face and said, "Gabriel, we have been good friends for a great many years. However, this is not something you ought to pry into."

"Now Laurent, do you honestly expect me to not be curious about where this girl came from?"

Avalaine looked horrified as she glanced between the men. They were staring at each other, hard looks in their eyes.

"Gabriel, please-" Avalaine said, pulling at her husband's clenched hand.

The Delacour children looked horrified. It was clear that none of them were used to adults arguing near them. Hermione watched on with increasing horror. She had to do something.

She mustered her courage and stated clearly, "I will explain, so please don't get upset."

All eyes snapped to her.

Laurent, Irène, and Avalaine all started to protest, saying she didn't have to explain anything, but she shook her head and continued, "I am Hermione Granger, and I come from the year 1998. I came back in time to restore balance to the wizarding world."

Everyone but the Lemerciers and Avalaine gaped at her.

"You- you are…" Leon stuttered. His face went red then, thinking about his introduction to her earlier that evening.

Hermione nodded, not entirely sure of the reason behind his blush. "To help me hide my true identity, the Lemerciers performed a blood adoption on me."

Apolline turned to her mother still gaping. "If she is here now, then all of the stories you told us about the lady… They are all true?"

"Yes," Avelaine and Hermione confirmed.

There was a long pause of silence before Gabriel said, "Now that our issue is settled, time for cake, yes?"

No one could form the words to argue as he cut the cake, handing everyone a slice. Everyone ate it silently, staring at Hermione. It was putting her on edge. Finally, after ten more minutes of it, Hermione snapped.

"Please, treat me as you would any other person! Doing so will help me more than you staring at me like that!" she pleaded, startling the people out of their silences.

Conversation returned to normal, with only the occasional glance at Hermione. As they ate the cake, Leon lightly touched her shoulder, drawing her attention toward him.

"About earlier… well I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking," Leon said quietly, so none of the other occupants of the table overheard. He seemed to be genuinely sorry, and was obviously nervous.

Hermione looked back at him, puzzled. "And what exactly did you do to me?" she asked.

He looked shocked, and he looked possibly more nervous than before. "E-Err, well," he said, twiddling his thumbs. He then took a massive bite of the cake, avoiding her question.

Hermione rolled her eyes at the boy. _Honestly_.

Leon's expression became surprised, then he pulled out a little crown from his mouth. Everyone at the table cheered for him. His father took the crown, cleaned it, then transfigured it into a wearable piece. He placed it on Leon's head, causing the rest of his clothing to change into kingly raiments. He seemed happy to have been chosen; it was, after all, a big deal to find the crown.

"Congratulations, Leon! Who is going to be the queen for today?" Avelaine asked.

He immediately looked at Hermione and smiled impishly at her. He swept out of his chair and got down on one knee, taking one of her hands into his own. "Hermione, will you give me the pleasure of being my queen for the day?"

Hermione flushed bright red. The whole room was staring at her, their breaths held, and she couldn't help but be embarrassed. Seeing her adoptive parents' encouraging smiles calmed her a bit- enough that she could turn back to Leon and nod her head. He flashed her another brilliant grin and took the crown his father was holding out and put it on her head. Just as had happened with him, her clothing changed into a royal dress. Everyone let out another loud cheer when Leon helped her up and they bowed to the small group in the dining room.

They all retired to the family parlour after they finished the rest of their cake. Hermione and Leon were still in their royal garments, and were chatting quietly by the fire while the adults and older kids talked about 'adult stuff'.

Hermione was busy staring into the fire when Leon began to talk.

"Hey, about what I was saying earlier- I- well, I was doing something that I shouldn't have been doing…" he trailed off lamely.

Hermione stifled a giggle, "Well, I assumed that much!"

He laughed a little too.

"But seriously, what exactly did you do that could make your mother so cross?"

He got tense again, but responded anyway, "You know what a veela is, right?"

Suddenly, it all clicked. His mother was a full veela, meaning he was at least half. "You are half veela, aren't you?" she asked.

He nodded his head at the earnest look she gave him. "I used my pheromones on you. My mother says that it is despicable to do, and so most of the time I don't," he sighed but continued, "I don't know what came over me to use them on you. I'm really sorry."

Hermione felt conflicted. He was apologising with good intentions, and he really did mean it, she could tell. But at the same time, he had influenced her emotions, played with them, and Hermione didn't like that. After thinking about it, she decided he probably wasn't fully in control of his veela powers. It wasn't entirely unheard of; besides, veelas rarely had control of most of their natural charm; people would always be somewhat attracted to them more than they would an average person.

"It's alright. I forgive you, just try to not do it again," she told him.

His face brightened and he grinned at her, flashing his pearly white teeth at her. He stood up then, holding out his hand to her, a gesture oddly reminiscent of the way he did earlier that day, and put on his best charming face.

"Would the fair queen bestow the gift of a dance upon this poor king?" he asked with faux pompousness.

She couldn't help but giggle gleefully, and put her hand in his. He pulled her up from where she was sitting and they started tumbling and twirling around on the floor of the parlour to a beat that only they knew. The other occupants of the room laughed as the dancing couple swung wildly around the room, occasionally stumbling a bit. On a particularly bad stumble, Leon fell backwards and Hermione tumbled on top of him. Both stared at each other, then burst out laughing.

That night was the start of a good friendship.

 **{Dreams of Sapphire Silk}**

It was nearly a month or so later when Hermione came to a realisation while she was reading in the massive Lemercier family library. Since she had travelled back in time, had her birthday changed? Reason would have her believe that yes, she would indeed have a new date of birth because she had not completed a full three hundred and sixty-five day cycle before she left for a different date.

When she brought up this concern with Laurent, he took her to a room deep in the Lemercier manor. He explained that while the Blacks had their tapestry, and the Malfoys an enchanted book, the Lemerciers had a stone wall full of everyone in the family, which included the dates of their birth. Since she had been adopted into the family by blood, she would appear there too.

And sure enough, upon the wall was her face, name, and date of birth- Hermione Aelia Irène Lemercier, February eighteenth nineteen-sixty. Besides her new date of birth, she wondered why she had more names now. Laurent seemed just as puzzled as her, but he just shrugged it off as being a part of the Lemercier family magic. Hermione wasn't satisfied with that answer, but resolved to research it in the library later.

Today was February tenth, so in only eight days she would would turn eleven for the second time. She giggled at the thought. How utterly absurd it was that she would be turning eleven again. She made her way back to the library to begin researching the cause of her extra names, while Laurent dealt with what he labeled as 'business'. Hermione knew him well enough to know that he was really just going to inform Irène of her birthday. No doubt, Irène would make a big deal out of it. Parents were so predictable. Even if they were adoptive.

 **{Dreams of Sapphire Silk}**

Hermione was, again, right. February eighteenth dawned and Hermione was greeted with breakfast in bed, courtesy of Irène and the house elves (all of whom adored her). After that she was given new clothing, hair ornaments, and jewellery to wear, which she grudgingly put on- really,wasn't the last time they went shopping enough to last her a lifetime? Irène was happy though, so Hermione humoured her. It was a day full of activities and adventures, some of which Hermione liked, some of which she only did because it made Irène happy.

To Hermione's great pleasure, Laurent insisted that they let her choose most of her gifts, and so they found themselves at the massive bookstore in La Rue de Épanoui, Hermione chose dozens of books to read with a bright grin on her face. After she had found enough books to fill a whole new shelf in the library, Irène dragged her out of there and insisted that she get some more clothing. Grudgingly, she followed Irène from shop to shop until they found one the older witch was looking for. Inside, it was quite small, but beautiful. Different cloaks sat on racks lining the walls. Irène, naturally, wasn't interested in any of those, but insead led Hermione to a platform in the middle of the shop.

A comely woman came out to greet them not a second later. She introduced herself as Madame Decouturière, the owner of the shop. Irène whispered quietly with the Matron whose eyes widened, but smiled broadly. Hermione sighed, this was going to take awhile. The woman then began laying out different fabrics, which Irène approved or disapproved. When Irène was finished, there were three different tones of blue fabrics, and a silver one left. The matron then went to Hermione and took her measurements, which she wrote down.

Irène thanked the woman and they left the shop. Their final destination was Gringotts, where Hermione chose out another new piece of jewellery, and then, they were on their way home.

When Hermione stepped through the door, she was greeted by Leon's beaming face. He tackled her in a hug, which caused them both to fall over. They laughed and got up, dusting themselves off. Avelaine and Gabriel were there too, Hermione noted.

That night, the six of them (Apolline and Louis were back at Beauxbatons), celebrated Hermione's first birthday in the past. As the night wound down, they retired to the family parlour. They all sat in front of the blazing hearth, Hermione and Leon on the floor, and the four adults on the couch behind them.

"Now Ma Fée," Laurent started, "You received this letter this morning, however, I kept it for you to open tonight." He handed her a letter, which she took gladly.

Leon was bouncing beside her as she broke the seal on the envelope. When Hermione saw the official seal on the papers, she gasped.

 _Lady Hermione Aelia Irène Lemercier,_

 _I am pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. Enclosed in this letter you will find a list of supplies you will need for the upcoming term as a Lady in her first year of training at Beauxbatons. You will also find enclosed a badge, denoting you as a student of our lovely Academy. We ask that you wear it at all times throughout the time you study as Beauxbatons student, from the day you receive this letter. Before you leave for the start of the upcoming term, it is expected that you study the rulebook that came along with this letter. It details the expectations of a Student of Beauxbatons, as well as other important information you will need to know before you attend our prestigious school. We look forward to seeing you next Fall._

 _Olympe Maxime_

 _Headmistress of Beauxbatons Academy of Magic_

When Hermione finished reading the letter, she looked up to her adoptive parents who smiled proudly at her. She pulled the badge out of the envelope and attached it to the collar of her robes. Next to her, Leon was practically bouncing off the walls. He showed her the badge proudly pinned onto the collar of his robes, and squealed in a very unmasculine way.

"We will be going to Beauxbatons together! Apolline and Louis will be so pleased," he exclaimed excitedly.

Hermione giggled at him. He got excited quite easily, and it was rather adorable. She couldn't help but be excited too, though. She had been to the French school before, but had never had the time to explore it well, as she was more interested in the library than anything else. That is the reason she visited in the first place, after all.

Hermione fell asleep that night only after reading the entirety of the handbook she had gotten with her letter.

Hermione enjoyed writing letters, so when her cousin Lucius had written to her, she was more than happy to keep up a correspondence with him. He was quite nice when he wasn't a complete arse about blood purity. Hermione discovered he was rather fond of feeding the peacocks that loitered around in the Malfoy's gardens. She laughed loud enough for Irène to check on her, asking if she was alright. He also enjoyed reading, much like Hermione did, and they constantly talked about the new books they had read, and what they thought of them. Much as he loved school, he was ready for the term to let out for summer holidays.

He also confided in her, sharing some of his fears. Apparently, his father was quite intent on finding a match for him, and he wasn't quite ready for that. More than anything, he just wanted someone who he could get on with. It was sad, Hermione pondered, that there were children who had to worry about such things as marriage already. She supposed that was the way of life for most purebloods, but it didn't change the fact that it was wrong.

Lucius didn't seem like a bad person, was the conclusion Hermione came to after much thought and interaction with him. If anything, he seemed lost. She couldn't help but wonder if the Lucius she knew was created by some horrible circumstance, because the Lucius she was getting to know was nothing like the one she would come across in the future.

She decided she liked Lucius. He would be a good friend, and when the time came for it, a good ally.

 **{Dreams of Sapphire Silk}**

Leon came over often, and when the two weren't spending time together, they were writing to each other. Since La Galette des Rois, they had become nearly inseparable. Hermione didn't realise how much she missed having people her own age around until she met Leon. Yes, she still had the mind of her old self, but having had the opportunity to live her childhood again, she had let herself act like a child, and children like being around other children.

They loved to talk about Beauxbatons, and were excited to attend the school in the upcoming term. Leon personally wanted to drag his parents to get all of the Beauxbatons supplies as soon as possible, but of course, he had to wait for his siblings to be back for the holidays to do so. Hermione laughed every time he would pout at his parents. He looked like a puppy, and it was hilarious.

Hermione had gotten the cloak Irène had specialty-ordered for her, and to her surprise, she loved it. It was a gradient of the palest blue at the top fading into a deep navy blue that almost looked black at the bottom. The lining was made out of the silver material she remembered seeing in the shop. The clasp was also silver and was shaped in the emblem of the Lemercier House Crest. The best feature by far though, were the protective charms. Irène had specifically ordered for certain charms to be placed upon it that would provide protection for Hermione whenever she was wearing it. As much as Irène's shopping habit bothered her, she was glad she had someone who was so thoughtful looking out for her.

Hermione passed the majority of her days doing what she pleased, but a particular favorite of hers was to discover new parts of the house. It was almost like the Library of the Lady, but without magic to help her. She wasn't ashamed to admit she had gotten lost at least a dozen times and then had to call for help.

There were some days that Irène wanted to make sure her knowledge and etiquette were up to par, just in case there was a surprise visit from a pureblooded family. To her adoptive mother's great pleasure, Hermione had retained everything she had learned, and had somehow gotten more graceful, if it was possible.

More than once while she was waiting for the start of her first term at Beauxbatons, Hermione had pulled out the handbook and reread it. It was so fascinating- the differences between Hogwarts and Beauxbatons, most noteworthy is the rules.

The French Academy admittedly had more rules than Hogwarts. It was partly a finishing school, which is why so many pureblooded families sent their daughters there, and therefore, there were many more rules to follow. At the same time, she would have more freedom as well. Apparently, there were many different versions of the uniform, and the students were not only encouraged but expected to mix and match between the different uniforms at their disposal. It was quite refreshing compared to Hogwarts, where the same thing was worn all day, every day.

The entire system at Beauxbatons was rather interesting too. Rather than separating the students into Houses, they were separated into groups led by hand-picked older students, which changed every year. Most groups contained between two hundred and fifty to three hundred students, and was evenly distributed between girls and boys. Within the groups there were students of all ages. There were no common rooms, either. All students hung out in various student lounges around the campus.

Of course, in the Dining Hall, nymphs serenaded the students as they ate, but the nymphs weren't limited to just that area of the school. They lived all over it- in the courtyards, in the fountains, Merlin, they even lived in the hot water springs under the school. It would be interesting to get to see all of the places that they liked.

When the students of both Durmstrang and Beauxbatons had gone to Hogwarts for the Triwizard Tournament, Hermione remembered seeing the Palomino-drawn carriage, but she never expected this to be how the students were transported to the school. There were certain stops all across Europe where students could get on the carriages.

Rereading everything about the mystical school renewed Hermione's excitement to attend the Academy, and she rushed off to write to Leon about it. He was, as always, thrilled to hear about Beauxbatons, and the two spent the next few weeks gushing over the school.

 **{Dreams of Sapphire Silk}**

Hermione found herself at the Delacour residence on June first. It was the day Apolline and Louis were returning home after having finished a full term at Beauxbatons. Leon pestered them about the school, while Hermione and the adults just shook their heads at the hyperactive child. He was quite overzealous when he was excited.

Louis somehow managed to escape his younger brother's incessant questioning, leaving Apolline to fend for herself. He walked right up to Hermione and formally greeted her. She laughed at him, and pulled him into a small hug. He smiled at the girl when they let go, and beckoned her to follow him up the stairs to the upper levels of the house. She had been up there before, Leon had been adamant about showing her his room, but this was the first time she had ever gone up with another member of the Delacour family. He was floating his luggage behind him (he had turned seventeen during the school term), and silently made his way to his rooms.

When the pair reached his door, he invited Hermione inside. It seemed that Louis was the direct opposite of Leon in every way, including in their choices for decor. Louis preferred the calmness of a neat space, and had a well put-together room. Leon had a whirlwind of colours about his room, and had heaps of Beauxbatons materials hanging around.

Louis, ever the gentleman, escorted Hermione to a chaise in a corner of the room. They both sat on it, silent and waiting for the other to talk. Louis broke the silence eventually and said, "You must be wondering why I dragged you up here."

She looked at him and replied, "Well, naturally, but you hardly dragged me. If anything, you impressed me with that bout of wandless magic while still leading me here."

He seemed surprised by what she said, but didn't comment. Silence filled the room again, and only their breathing could be heard.

"Listen Hermione," he said again suddenly, "I have been plagued with the worst sort of dreams since I first met you, and I am not inclined to just ignore them."

Hermione held back a snort. It was obvious these dreams were really bothering him, and it would be rude for Hermione to dismiss them by laughing.

He paused, trying to find the words, and took a deep breath, then continued, "My mother is a gifted seer, much like our ancestor, and lately I cannot help but believe I may have some form of the gift as well…"

She, oddly enough, didn't doubt it. It was true that the Lady was an extremely accomplished seer, and Hermione had suspected that Avalaine was a seer for a while now. She looked up at him and nodded slowly.

He seemed immensely relieved by her response and continued, "I am not going to tell you exactly what I saw, but, to help circumvent the events that transpired, I want you to have this." He gave her thin, woven bracelet that was the same color as his deep auburn hair.

When Hermione noticed it, she gasped a little. It _was_ made from his hair.

He chuckled a little, saying, "Yes, it is my hair. Though it isn't as strong as a full-blooded veela, it still has many magical properties."

Hermione slipped it on her wrist, touched. She had been here just shy of six months and there were already so many people who were committed to protecting her. It was comforting. She felt a warmth start to invade her senses when she looked at Louis. She struggled to place where it came from, but her mind snapped back to her first meeting with Avalaide. It was the same feeling she had had then. Her eyes were filled with wonder and she couldn't help but lean a little closer to Louis.

He noticed a glow surrounding her skin, but didn't say anything for fear it would end the moment.

The spell broke, and the warmth vanished when Leon bounced into the room, exuberant as ever. "Guess what? Guess what?"

Louis sighed, probably annoyed with the antics of his younger brother interrupting them.

"What's the matter Leon?," Hermione asked.

"Mother is taking us all the way to Diagon Alley in England since both Apolline and Louis got good scores this term. Both of them are the best students in their years," he squealed and ran off to find Apolline and tell her the news. Both Hermione and Louis winced at the loud crash that followed him out the door, but he yelled he was fine, and tumbled down the hallways in search of Apolline again.

"I suppose we will be going to England then, yes," Louis said standing up.

Hermione joined him, "It would seem so."

The pair walked back down to the main entryway, where both Avelaine and Irène were waiting for the children. Irène smiled at Hermione and handed her lovely cloak. She put it on gladly. A moment later, Leon and Apolline appeared, both with cloaks in their hands. Everyone was ready to apparate to the Ministère, where they would take a portkey to England.

 **{Dreams of Sapphire Silk}**

Diagon Alley was everything she remembered it being. She definitely forgot how dirty it was, and how crowded, but she loved it nonetheless. Next to her, Leon was jumping up and down, hardly capable of containing himself. Apolline and Louis were much more calm and collected compared to their younger brother, although a stampede could be considered more 'calm and collected' than Leon today. In reality, they had been here before, and didn't mind either way if they were in Diagon Alley, or in La Rue de Épanoui. Hermione herself was much the same as Apolline and Louis; she had been here more often than all of them combined, and so she wasn't all that exuberant to be here. Irène and Avelaine warned Hermione and Leon to stay close to Louis, as the other three ladies would be looking at the various different robes shops, seeing the popular trends here. Irène knew Hermione enough to know she would positively detest shopping for robes, so she let her go with the boys.

After both Hermione and Leon were given some spending gold, they departed with Louis to travel around the Alley. Louis and Hermione mostly just followed Leon around, as they had nothing they particularly wanted to do. It was while they were in the one place Hermione and Louis actually wanted to go that they ran into trouble.

They were in the bookstore when Sirius Black saw Hermione. She was alone browsing books when the boy came up to her. Being the very polite person Irène had insisted she be, she curtsied and held out her hand for the boy to kiss. Rather than being met with the usual kind response, he laughed at her. She didn't particularly mind and just turned back to the bookshelf to browse more books. This annoyed Sirius, though, and he started to mock her.

"Oh, look. The perfect pureblood princess thinks she is better than me," he sneered at her.

Hermione looked back at him evenly and replied in shaky English, "I would never. I believe that everyone, until proven otherwise by their actions, are my equals."

He stood there, staring at her strangely. Apparently that wasn't the answer he was expecting, and it confused him. Not a second later, Walburga Black appeared, glaring harshly at Sirius.

"You have been bothering Lady Lemercier haven't you?" she scowled at him.

Sirius had gone remarkably pale, and his hands started to twitch slightly, thinking of all the ways Walburga would punish him when Hermione gave him up.

"Lady Black, If I may, your son was nothing but a gentleman. I was struggling to reach a book on one of the higher shelves and he offered to help me reach it. I owe you my thanks, Young Lord Black," she said curtsying to him.

If only Hermione had a camera to capture the look on Sirius's face. It was absolutely priceless. To be fair, so was Walburga's. She seemed to find it quite hard to believe that Sirius would do something like that.

Walburga straightened her already upright back and sniffed, "Carry on then," and walked away.

Sirius looked at her like she had grown a new head. "Why did you do that?" he asked.

Hermione sighed, "Because, you don't seem like a malicious person. Besides, you mother is quite terrifying. I cannot imagine what she would do to you if I had told the truth."

He laughed with relief, and she smiled in return.

"Obviously, I misjudged you. Anyone who saves me from that old hag cannot be a bad person. Let's start over, yeah," he said proffering his hand for her to take. She did and he placed a kiss over it. "I am Sirius Black. I think we will be great friends."

She returned the statement with a genuine smile of her own.

"I think so too," she replied.

And this was the start of the friendship of Hermione Lemercier [Granger] and Sirius Black.

 **{Dreams of Sapphire Silk}**

Thank you to all of the loyal readers who waited so long for this chapter! I made this chapter much longer than any previous chapter, so I hope you all enjoy. I have more great news! I have betas! Put your hands together for the lovely WizardSmurf and DracoNunquamDormiens! They have been amazing in proofreading and fact checking. I will say though, because I am making chapters longer, it will take longer to write, and now that I have betas, it will take more time before I release new chapters... However, the quality is loads better, so I don't feel that bad.

Sincerely,

Miss of the Manor


	14. The Mystic Gateway

It was August first nineteen-seventy-one, and Hermione found herself back in La Rue de Épanoui, however, this time was not at the insistence of Irène. Well, at least, Hermione had no qualms about coming today when her adoptive mother brought it up. As always, the older witch insisted upon going to see every boutique they passed, but Hermione had a mission. Today, they were getting her Beauxbatons supplies. Leon had already managed to drag his family out, so they weren't there that day. That suited Hermione just fine though; Leon got distracted more easily than Zeus when he saw a pair of legs, and as mentioned earlier, she had stuff to do today.

To appease Irène, Hermione aquiested to visit the robes shop first. Inside was a whirlwind of Beauxbatons powder blue. Rolls of silks and satins flew around the store in no discernable neatness, matching threads, buttons, and ribbons also in the fray; in the midst of it all was a frazzled looking witch. When she noticed the two witches at the entrance, everything organized themselves in an instant. All the bolts of fabric settled themselves neatly on their racks, threads, buttons, and ribbons went back to their homes, and the woman stepped forward to greet her customers.

"Bienvenue! Bienvenue! I am Madame Tourbillon. Here for Beauxbatons robes, then?" the woman asked, a set of spectacles hanging crookedly on her nose. In an odd sort of way, the woman reminded Hermione of Molly Weasley; living with a mess around her, but fixing it with the snap of her fingers.

"Oui, my daughter Hermione is starting her first year," Irène said, nudging Hermione toward the seamstress.

"Irène, is that you? I've not seen you for years," Madame Tourbillon exclaimed, "Not since your last year of schooling!"

Irène laughed, "Oui, your memory is still as sharp as the needles you work with."

"Well," she said, turning to Hermione, "Let's get her measurements, then we can talk different styles, yes?"

Irène nodded, and Madame Tourbillon ushered Hermione onto a circular platform. Hermione was instructed to hold still, which she did, while a measuring tape flew around her body taking measurements for quill to write down. During this time, Madame Tourbillon looked at Hermione speculatively. It unnerved the bookworm, but the madame clapped her hands, and the tape that was measuring her as well as the quill that was writing down those measurements, fell to the ground. The paper upon which the quill was writing on floated into Madame Tourbillon's hand.

"Now dear, come sit down next to your mother while we talk styles."

Hermione compiled and took a seat next to Irène on one of the many cushy chairs littering the room. The seamstress snapped her finger and a large book came flying into her hands from its place on a nearby counter. She handed it to Irène, who gladly took the tome. Normally the bookworm would be excited by a book, but, when the first page was opened, she groaned. It was full of clothing. Hermione vaguely remembered reading about a catalog of sorts that was sent to every Beauxbaton-approved seamstress (in order to get a uniform, it had to come from one of them). Inside were all of the acceptable types of uniforms one could bring to the school. Of course, some were required, like the formal one Hermione remembered from their stay at Hogwarts, as well as a riding uniform for when the students learned how to ride a smaller breed of the Abraxan horses the school was so well-known for. There were dozens of other uniforms inside the catalog, so Hermione got comfortable. This was going to take awhile, especially with Irène making the decisions.

A full hour later, Madame Tourbillon was showing them out. A hefty 40 robes had been ordered, courtesy of Irène. The robes would be delivered to their chateau within the next two weeks. Hermione pitied the owl in charge of that delivery.

Their next stop was the bookstore, much to Hermione's relief. After sitting around listening about collars, and which ribbon would compliment each respective collar, she was more than ready to relax in her element. Irène agreed to let Hermione browse the books while she collected the required books. As much as Hermione hated shopping with Irène, she was quite thoughtful.

Hermione was on her way to find books about magical folklore and myths when she tripped over a sitting person. She hadn't seen the boy sitting there in her rush to get to the books she was looking for, of course, she began apologising immediately. He laughed a little at her frantic apologies.

"It's alright, truly," the boy said. He had ashy brown hair, and freckles dotting his upper cheeks and nose. He towered over Hermione by a good two heads, though being taller than Hermione wasn't necessarily difficult. She was called Fée for a reason.

"What is your name?" he asked. "Mine is Mathis." He didn't search for her hand and bow, so either he wasn't a pureblood,or he was a pureblood, but wasn't taught pureblood manners, or he was a pureblood and wasn't entirely sure who she was. All were equally likely in Hermione's mind.

"Hermione Demercier," she replied and held out her hand to see if he would take it.

His eyes widened almost imperceptibly, but Hermione caught it. He hurriedly took her hand and placed a kiss upon it.

"It's a pleasure, Lady Lemercier," he replied, bowing.

She curtsied in reply.

"My full name is Mathis Lachance," he quipped. "My father is a muggle-born," he continued after seeing her thoughtful expression.

So a half-blood then. That would explain a lot. She glanced at his collar and saw a Beauxbatons badge pinned there.

"You are going to Beauxbatons too, Lord Lachance?" she asked

"Yes, but please, call me Mathis."

"Alright then, Mathis, you should call me Hermione."

He smiled and nodded.

Just then, a woman rounded the corner, looking for someone. She spotted Mathis and walked toward him.

"Mathis," she said, "We will be leaving soon, but before we do, who is this?" she asked kindly, turning to Hermione.

"Mother, this the the Lady Hermione Lemercier."

Her eyes widened just as Mathis's did when they were introduced. It seemed she is where he learned it from.

She too, greeted Hermione formally upon hearing her identity.

Hermione internally rolled her eyes. It was becoming such a pain to deal with pureblooded rules. At least she could drop all semblances of them in private, if she couldn't, Merlin only knows what she would do. Nonetheless, it was important to know them if she was going to try and pose as one of the purebloods.

She waved Mathis and his mother goodbye, and started going back to the section of the store she had originally been on her way to. She didn't get far though, as her own mother came looking for her. Grudging, she left the bookstore empty-handed. She did the rest of her supply shopping rather quickly after that, though she did spend more time in the animal store, attempting to find a familiar, but had no luck. They left for Chateau Demercier after that, having completed the rest of her supply shopping.

{The Mystic Gateway}

Hermione woke up with the sun on September first nineteen-seventy-one. It was the day of her departure to Beauxbatons, and she couldn't be more excited. Even as the Demerciers apparated her to the location in which the carriage would pick her up, she was bouncing up and down almost as much as Leon. The poor Delacours though. Hermione almost regretted that she wouldn't be sharing the carriage ride with them (as they lived in a different zone then the Demerciers, so a different carriage would take them to the school); it would have been hilarious to watch him as they got closer and closer to Beauxbatons.

When the carriage arrived, Hermione said goodbye to her adoptive parents, and stepped up into the massive winged-horse-drawn vehicle. Her luggage had, thankfully, been charmed to be feather-light, so all she had to worry about was the cumbersome size of it. Unlike the Hogwarts Express, the Beauxbatons Carriages were all open, and had no compartments. The seats too, were much more luxurious and comfortable.

Hermione handed off her luggage to an attendant, who then placed it in the overhead compartments so it would be out of the way. As Hermione searched for a seat, she saw a boy and girl arguing with each other. They both looked remarkably alike, so Hermione assumed they were siblings. The girl stormed off, leaving the boy furious in her wake. Hermione knew better than to stick her head into the matters of someone else, so she settled into a seat a bit away from them.

The carriage took off, and they began their journey to the magical school. For being in what was essentially a box pulled by flying horses, the ride was very smooth, although, magic probably played a part in that. Pulling a book out from the beaded bag she always kept on her person, she started to read, occasionally glancing up to check her surroundings.

An hour later, Hermione noticed that the girl from earlier had yet to return to the main area of the carriage. She became a little worried then, so though she had decided to not get involved earlier, she got up to search the only place the girl could be- the toilets. Sure enough, there was a girl in there, crying. Hermione slowly approached the girl and placed a hand gently on her back. It startled her, and she turned back to look at Hermione.

She was quite pretty- amber eyes, and long dark hair, however, none of that mattered, as she was glaring at Hermione with the ferocity of a lioness.

"Yes?" she asked vehemently.

Hermione swallowed what little she had in her mouth and replied, "I saw you came in here earlier, it had been awhile so I thought to come in and check on you…"

Her eyes softened, if only a miniscule amount. "Oh, I am alright. I only had a spat with my brother. He is a little overbearing sometimes."

Hermione could sense she didn't really want to talk about it, so decided to change the subject. "If you would like, there is a seat next to me open," she held out her hand and continued, "I'm Hermione Lemericer."

The girl looked shocked, but took it and gave her a watery smile. "Thank you, Hermione," she said curtsying, still gripping the hand the other girl proffered. "I am Amélie Caspari. Please lead the way to the seats."

Hermione did, and the two girls found themselves talking and laughing. Later, the mood turned more somber, and Amélie shared why she sought the toilets for refuge.

"My brother, as I said before, is quite overbearing and very protective. He's been that way since we were little, and today was no different. I wanted to find a seat by myself on the carriage, and he was very adamant that I sit by him. It is his second year, after all, and only my first. The argument escalated from there…"

Hermione nodded sympathetically at the girl. She knew what it was like having overprotective boys hovering over you. Sometimes it was nice, but most of the time it was annoying. She could understand why Amélie wanted to get away, if only for a few hours.

"He isn't even all that older than me," Amélie continued, "Ten minutes is barely older."

"Ten minutes? You are twins? I thought that he was a second year?" Hermione questioned confusedly.

She rubbed her eyes. "Yeah, he was born August thirty-first at eleven fifty-five. I was born September first ten minutes later."

It was a little amusing, Hermione thought, though she dared not voice her opinions. Amélie was quite fierce. Instead, she continued to rub the girl's back.

"Well at least you will be the oldest in our year, happy birthday by the way," Hermione said, trying to lighten the mood.

"Yes-" she started but was interrupted by a figure looming over them.

"Amélie," he spoke.

The girl looked up and saw the aforementioned girl's brother.

He was glowering much like his sister did to Hermione in the toilets.

The girl shyed behind Hermione, who felt something stir within her. The bookworm stood up and faced him. Although she was pecuniary in size compared to him, her fiery attitude made up for it. He stepped back, shocked at her temperament.

Hermione was ready to dish out the best tongue-lashing she knew, but Amélie stopped her. The girl had stood up by then, and placed herself between Hermione and her brother.

"Elias, kindly, shove off! I am capable of taking care of myself. I know you are worried about me, but Merlin, you are being too much! If Hermione hadn't found me, I'd still be in the toilets, crying my eyes out," the girl yelled. Thankfully, it hadn't attracted the attention of any of the other student.

The boy was ready to retaliate but Amélie cut him off, "And do think about what you say, this," she pointed a finger at the bookworm, who had moved to stand beside her, "is Hermione Lemercier."

The boy's demeanor instantly changed. He became much more meek, and even had a blush rise to his cheeks. Hermione wondered why her name would elicit such a change in him. It hardly made sense.

He bowed deeply at her, and took her hand, placing a kiss upon it. She was still bewildered, though he seemed not to notice.

"My deepest apologies, Lady Lemercier, I mean no disrespect toward you or your house," he said, still deep in his bow.

Hermione was still confused as to why he would apologise -it seemed rather out of character from what she knew of him-, but replied, "I will not take offense this time, but do keep your tongue in order next time, Lord Caspari."

"Of course my Lady," he agreed, "I shall make my departure now."

He left and slunk back to his own seat. _Good Riddance_. The girls sat back down and sighed at the same time, causing them to have a fit of laughter.

When they calmed down, Amélie said, "Please, don't hold a grudge against him. He is a really good person, he just doesn't know when to hold back his protective urges sometimes."

"Yes alright, I will be civil to him, but, why did he immediately back down when you mentioned my name?"

"You don't know?" She exclaimed.

Hermione nodded her head no.

"Merlin! I'dve thought you knew!"

"Obviously not," Hermione said tartly

She nodded in mock-seriousness, "I am from Switzerland, right, and my family- we own half of Gringotts." she silenced Hermine who was about to ask another question and continued, "Your family though, they invested in the bank hundreds of years ago when it was just getting its start. Ever since then, our families have been close allies. A few years ago, before either of us were born, your father got mine out of a tight spot, and because of that, my family is indebted to yours. If my parents were to ever catch wind of what Elias did to you…" she trailed off, shuddering.

Hermione frowned, "I guess my father didn't find it prudent to tell me."

Amélie just shrugged it off and continued chattering about something or the other. Hermione didn't particularly care and muttered a few phrases to keep up the illusion of her listening. Shortly thereafter, the carriage hit solid ground again, and the students spilled out onto the lush grounds of Beauxbatons. At the front of the group, there were two students- a boy and a girl- with a special badges pinned on their robes. It designated them Épaulers, the Beauxbatons version of a prefect.

"Bonjour, and welcome to Beauxbatons. I am Aurore, one of the Épaulers this year. Years two and above are to take their things to their assigned dormitories. Your dorm assignments are located on the entrance door. After you complete that, Madame Maxime wishes to see you in the Dining Hall," the female said.

The majority of the students marched across the stone pathways and toward the grand chateau, their luggage trailing behind them.

The boy Épauler spoke next, "I share Aurore's welcome to you, I am Matthieu, another Épauler this year. The rest of you are going to be taken on a tour of the vast grounds and chateau. Your belongings will be taken to your dormitories for you, so let's begin with the gardens, oui?"

The first years followed the Épaulers around the massive school for two hours. It was nearly five in the evening when the first years were left in a comfortable lounge. Hermione immediately went over to a chair and plopped down on it. Her feet were positively achy from a combination of the uniform low-heeled shoes and walking around a massive chateau. At least the rest of her uniform was comfortable- it would have been a hellish ride in the flying carriages otherwise. Students were required to wear their formal uniforms while they traveled to and from the school.

Hermione and Amélie chatted for an hour in the lounge, then, when six o'clock struck, twenty Épaulers gathered together the first years, and lead them through the school to the one place they had yet to see- the Dining Hall. For a group of roughly two hundred and fifty eleven year olds, it was remarkably silent on the journey there- only the scuffle and clicks of shoes could be heard. When they arrived at the door to the Dining Hall, all of the Épaulers surrounded the first years, creating a protective bubble of sorts.

The door opened, and the first years were led into a deep, inky darkness. The door closed behind the last Épauler, shutting out all remaining drops of light.

Suddenly, glowing blue butterflies appeared in the room, fluttering around the first years faces. As they aweed the sight before them, one landed on the tip of Hermione's nose, and she resisted sneezing. It dissolved in a puff of magic only a second later. More butterflies pervaded the room, and as the first years looked up to see them better, they noticed older students were dancing in pairs, blue magic leaving a trail where they stepped. Slowly, a pattern was beginning to form, but their attention was torn to the golden flowers being rained upon them. The golden flowers affixed themselves to the first years, shrinking into little badges that settled on their collars nicely. All around the first years, more students started dancing, twirling around them, creating a pattern on the ground with blue magic. Students bearing magic batons began performing too, twirling around their batons in complicated patterns; each end of the baton leaving blue and gold sparks of magic behind in their paths.

The first years hardly knew where to look. Grand displays of magic were being displayed literally all around and above them. The room was filled with a bright blue light, and when it subsided, above and below the first years the Beauxbaton's crest glowed. Candles were gradually lit, bringing light back into the darkened room, and the crests slowly faded, leaving only the whisper of magic behind. When full light was restored to the room, Madame Maxime stood at the head of what Hermione assumed was the staff table.

"Returning students," she stated clearly, "Welcome to another year of Beauxbatons. You all did wonderfully in the customary welcoming ceremony, and may now take your seats."

All the second through seventh years shuffled to nine tables (that had magically appeared), which had banners of very familiar golden flowers hanging over them. Each banner had a different number of flowers on them, starting with one and ending at nine.

"First years, Bienvenue to Beauxbatons. I, Headmistress Madame Maxime, welcome you to your first year at the Academy. On your collar, you should find a golden badge with a flowers adorning it. The number of flowers dictates your dorm, and which table you will sit at during formal feasts. Please, take a moment to find your table, and get situated at it."

All of the first years glanced down at their lapels, and moved to go to their assigned table.

Hermione had seven flower buds adorning her badge and sat down at the table with the corresponding number of flowers.

When silence once again filled the room, Madame Maxime continued, "Do not get too comfortable in your current dorms. They are quite prone to change throughout your years here at the Academy. Each one has different characteristics, some of which certain people will hope for more than others. You will discover more about those characteristics this term, and by the time you come back after Winter Holidays, you will know which dorm you will want. The Épaulers of each of your dorms will tell you more about the intricacies of each, and how you can improve the likelihood of being placed in the dorm you want after the holidays. For tonight, enjoy the feast," she finished and sat down.

Platters of food appeared on each table, and the students dug in to the scrumptious feast before them.

As Hermione ate, she glanced around at the various students sitting in the hall. Before the feast, everyone had on the same uniform, but now, she could see different students in different types of attire. Some had on form fitting robes, which allowed for flexibility, and others had on flowing dress robes, more ideal for dancing, and those were only two types of the many she had seen. Hermione determined that the different robes were for the different types of magic each person was doing. The baton twirlers had the form-fitting ones, and the dancers had the dress robes. In the background, Hermione vaguely heard the nymphs singing their melodious tunes, and couldn't help but relish in the beauty of it.

As she continued eating, a figure took a seat by her. When she glanced over to see who it was, Louis's smiling face greeted her.

"What did you think of the welcoming ceremony?" he asked.

Hermione finished chewing and replied, "It was sublime. I hardly knew where to look!"

He chuckled, "Yes, that is true. I am glad you were put in this dorm. I am the Head Épauler for it, so I can help you around."

"Merci, I appreciate it. It is all so much more than I thought it would be. The handbook barely skims the surface of what actually happens here!" she explained.

"Yes," he grinned again, "That too, is very true."

Hermione took another bite, and chewed on it thoughtfully. "Do you think you could explain what Madame Maxine was speaking of earlier? About changing dorms?"

He smirked, "Yes, I would be delighted, however, you must do something for me."

"And what might that be?" she asked cautiously.

He smiled even wider, "You must study with me for an hour every Thursday in a location of my choosing."

Hermione nearly snorted. If he was wanting to study with her, all he had to do was ask; she would never refuse studying. However, she didn't understand why he would want to study with her- a first year. He himself was a seventh year, and would have no use studying with her. She mentally shrugged it off though. There was no need to ponder too deeply at a simple request as this.

"You have yourself a deal," she held out her hand for him to shake, but he placed a gentle kiss on it.

"You are bound to your word, Lady Lemercier," he whispered to her.

Hermione could only nod back in reply.

"Now," he said, the serious demeanor from earlier gone, "let me tell you about dorm selections. First thing you ought to know, the magic that is imbued in the flower badges is special. It puts you in the dorm it thinks you would benefit most in, however, over the years, you are prone to change, so the dorms in which you are placed in can change to match. Dormitory Seven, our dormitory, is the one of the two oldest dormitories in the entire Academy. It is the best place to practice magic. For some reason, students who live in it learn magic more quickly than normal. Other dormitories have other special powers, but that is ours. When it comes time to change dormitories, you will submit a request form to Head Épauler of the dorm you want to transfer to. It is up to them to decide who gets in and who does not, though if you have better marks, you are more likely to get in."

Hermione was astounded. There was quite a bit of complexity at Beauxbatons. More than she would have ever imagined. She was quite excited to be in Dormitory Seven though. If its reputation holds true, she would be extremely lucky to practice magic there.

Louis excused himself; he had to get the new students to Dormitory Seven. Hermione followed Louis and the rest of the students to the dormitory. It was quite a bit aways, leading to the oldest parts of the Academy. Dormitory Nine students were close by as well; their lodgings being the other most ancient one at the school.

The two groups separated at a set of two staircases. One on the right, and one on the left. Louis led the group up the staircase on the left, and stopped in front of an ancient-looking door. Engraved upon it was seven blooming flowers.

He cleared his throat and said, "This is the entryway to Dormitory Seven. To get inside any of the dormitories, you must have your Beauxbatons badge, as well as your flower badge with the corresponding number of flowers. So, to enter into this dormitory, you must have the badge you received with your letter, as well as a badge with seven flowers."

Louis pushed open the door, and students filed into a little space at the bottom of two staircases. The doors closed when all the students were tucked away in the area.

"Now, as the Headmistress announced earlier, each dormitory has certain quirks. This one is the best place to practice magic in. Through that door," he pointed to his right, " there are practice rooms. Naturally, they restrict certain types of magic, and if anyone is injured, they will be transported to the infirmary immediately. There are also other practice rooms in the school, but as the Head Épauler of Dormitory Seven, I would encourage you to train here."

He coughed a little and continued, "Up to my left are the girl's dormitories, and up to my right are the boy's dormitories. In each, there are fifteen rooms that groups of sixteen or seventeen will share. Your name will be engraved upon one of the plaques on the entrance of your room; within the room, your belongings will also have a plaque with your name engraved upon it. When you get to your dorms, an Épualer will be there to direct you further."

He sighed and smiled brightly at all of the first years. "Welcome to Beauxbatons."

The first years scurried up to their rooms, Hermione included. Louis waved at her as she disappeared up the stairway.

The steps disappeared to reveal a corridor full of doors. Hermione walked down it, searching for her name. She didn't need to go far; her name appeared on the third door down. She walked inside to find a plethora of older girls waiting for her.

"You must be Hermione Lemercier, welcome to our room!" a tall brunette said. She had on an Épauler badge, meaning she had to be a fifth, sixth, or seventh year student.

"I am Lucie, the Épauler for this room. Your bed is that one," she stated indicating a four poster bed with powder blue drapings covering it.

Hermione smiled at Lucie, "Merci, I am exhausted from the ceremony, so if you don't mind I would like to go to sleep."

"Certainly," she gushed, "The washing room is located through the door on your right, and the toilets are through the door on your left."

Hermione nodded, and went to her bed. At the foot of it was her trunk. Her named gleamed on the golden tag that adorned it. She unlatched it and grabbed her pajamas. As she relatched it, she muttered a few protective enchantments under her breath. It wouldn't be seemly to have someone snooping through her stuff.

After she had finished changing, she went back to her bed and closed the draped around them, effectively muting all of the chatter around her. Hermione once again cast a few wards around the curtain, not wanting people to bother her. She placed the wand she always carried with her under her pillow and quickly drifted into a deep sleep.

{The Mystic Gateway}

When she awake the next morning and opened the curtains, she was blasted with the chatter of all the girls in her room. Rubbing her eyes, she exited the warm confines of her bed, and grabbed a uniform for the day. As soon as she finished tying the little bow tie her uniform called for, she was accosted by a very excited Lucie.

"Hermione, you hair is simply divine," she chattered, grabbing a lock of Hermione's hair and stroking it.

Hermione took a small step back, enough that her hair from Lucie's grasp. "Yes, thank you," she said uncomfortably.

Lucie didn't seem at all phased by Hermione's sudden discomfort. "You will have to let me do it some time!"

Hermione sighed, "sure." She didn't particularly want to let Lucie do her hair, but she suspected the chipper brunette wouldn't take no for an answer, so she acquiesced anyway.

"Wonderful!" the other girl exclaimed.

Hermione slowly crept out of the room. She really just wanted to go down to breakfast and eat something. On her way out the door, she bumped into a familiar face.

"Oh Mathis! It is wonderful to see you again," Hermione said, seeing the boy from the bookstore.

He seemed a little surprised that she remembered him. "Yes, good morning Hermione," he responded. "Are you heading down to the dining hall too?"

"I am."

"In that case," he said, "would you like to go down together?" he finished, smiling brilliantly at her.

Hermione nodded happily at him, and together they walked out the door and down to the dining hall. Inside, the Nymphs were already singing. Hermione noted that all nine of the long tables had been replaced by dozens of round tables. She also noted that the nine banners depicting the flowers resided behind the professor's table.

Hermione and Mathis sat down at a nearby table and glanced around for food. They found nothing but ornate china and a menu.

"How do you suppose this works," Mathis said, holding up one of the menus.

Before Hermione could respond, a female's voice interrupted. "All you need to do is put your finger on the item you want. It will appear on you plate."

Hermione turned around and saw Amélie standing there, her arms folded. Mathis was busy reading over the menu, having thanked the girl already.

"Hello, Hermione. It's good to see you again," she said and took a seat next to the curly haired girl.

"Amélie, thank you. You too. How did-"

The amber eyed girl cut her off. "My brother."

Hermione nodded her head and turned her eyes toward the menu. She ordered a croissant, which appeared on her plate, just as Amélie had said it would.

"Ah, Amélie, before I forget, this," Hermione said, gesturing at the boy sitting at their table, "is Mathis Lachance. And Mathis," she said turning to the boy, "This is Amélie Caspari."

The two made their formal introductions while Hermione ate her croissant. The three fell into a comfortable chatter, talking about last night and how they felt about classes starting today. Hermione herself was interested to see what the curriculum would look like at Beauxbatons, but wasn't very thrilled at the prospect of having to sit through classes of information she already knew.

The relative peace of the group was disturbed but an overly exuberant boy plopping himself down at their table. Naturally that boy was Leon, and he was talking so fast that even Amélie and Mathis (who were native French speakers) had a hard time keeping up. Hermione caught the gist of it- he was excited to be at the new school, he like his dormitory, etc. When he finally slowed down he looked expectantly at the three other people sitting at the table expectantly.

When no one responded he rolled his eyes and said, "My name is Leon Delacour, What are yours?" He said to Amélie and Mathis.

They both seemed a bit cautious of the boy and Hermione couldn't help but wonder why. Certainly, he was more than a little hyperactive, but for the most part he was harmless.

After noticing their hesitation, Leon deflated. Hermione was rapidly trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together when it finally clicked. They knew that the Delacour children were half-veela. They must be nervous that he would try and charm them into doing something.

Deciding to take action, Hermione said, "Leon! Please, your over-excitement is probably scaring them."

He words sunk in immediately, Leon calmed down, and the other two seemed more at ease, knowing Hermione was already acquainted with him.

Mathis was the first to introduce himself, and Amélie followed not too long after. Leon immediately brightened and again started speaking rapidly again, confusing everyone.

Hermione laughed, knowing that this would be the start of a great school year.

Slowly, the Dining Hall filled up with students. When it was mostly full, schedules began popping up on the student's tables. As soon as Hermione's able received theirs, the four students compared them.

Hermione and Mathis had very similar classes, which made sense, because they were both in Dormitory Seven Leon shared a handful of classes with everyone, and Amélie shared the least amount with anybody.

Hermione was excited to get started with classes. For the first time since she came back in time, she felt ready for something.

{The Mystic Gateway}

The day was over, and Hermione found herself wandering the school. Classes were just fine, albeit boring. One thing Hermione was finding to be true with all magic schools was that they were all ridiculously easy to get lost in. Hermione was headed for the Dining Hall because it was almost time to eat, but she got lost somewhere along the way.

Currently she was somewhere in the depths of the school, because there weren't any windows looking out on the gorgeous estate. Surprisingly enough, the area she was in was quite warm, unlike the dungeons of Hogwarts which were freezing. Hermione would have been concerned, if not for her being in more perilous situations previous to now. The temperature continued to rise the farther she went into the underground of the school.

A sweat began to build upon her brow, and minutes later she stumbled upon a set of heavy stone doors. They had runes engraved upon them, and not just any runes. They were of a kind she recognized, though could't read. Her blood began to race. Those were the runes of the Lady. Quickly, she ran forward to push open the doors, but they wouldn't budge.

She tried nearly everything she could think of- magic and muggle alike. Nothing seemed to open them. Finally when she was about to give up, she tried tracing the runes with her wand, channeling every bit of the Lady she could muster. It worked, and the doors slowly moved to reveal a large stone cave.

The cavern was illuminated by little lights drifting through the air. Tentatively, Hermione walked through the doorway, and felt the heat of the room envelope her. The air was humid, causing her hair to frizz slightly. Behind her, the door shut. She continued further in and stopped at a massive pool of water. She knelt down and skimmed the top of it with her fingers.

Figures slowly started to pop out of the water. One in particular came forward to greet Hermione.

The figure turned out to be a water nymph. Her beautiful blue eyes looked straight through Hermione.

The nymph gestured for Hermione to come closer. She complied. Still maintaining eye contact the nymph spoke.

"Hello, my Lady. Welcome to the pathway to Avalon."

{The Mystic Gateway}

Hello dear readers, I know that I haven't posted for a long time, so I am pleased to post this today. Don't worry, I have not forgot about this story, nor have I abandoned it. I started school again, and it had become quite hectic, so I am terribly sorry to say that I will not be able to post as often as I did before. I am also pleased to announce that I am working on my own novel! It is likely that it won't be published, however it has been very time consuming writing that too. I will still update this story, I promise on my honor as an author! Thank you all for staying so committed to this story, I really appreciate all of your support. I hope you enjoyed this chapter!

Until I Can Update Again,

Miss of the Manor


	15. Misty Lakes and Foggy Mountains

Hermione was shocked, to say the least. Avalon was a legend even amongst myth.

"Avalon?" the bookworm whispered.

The nymph who greeted her nodded. "Yes."

"What…" Hermione questioned, not even knowing what to think next.

"You were only recently inducted, so it is not expected that you know these things. There is no reason to worry," the nymph reassured.

It didn't make Hermione feel much better.

"Follow me," the water spirit beckoned.

Hermione complied. She figured that if the nymph wanted to hurt her, the new-found powers would alert her somehow. Hermione stripped off most of her clothing and walked into the steaming water. Like the air around her, the water was warm. It would be perfect for a bath, Hermione thought idly.

The nymph guided Hermione to the center of the spring, then dove straight down. Hermione followed suit after casting a quick bubble-head charm.

Underwater was even more beautiful than the land. Various orbs of soft blue light illuminated the water world. Forests of kelp dotted the floor of the cavern, meadows of magical flowers sprawled the expanse. Amongst all the beautiful flora, nymphs lounged and played, content in their element. Hermione imagined this place was quite peaceful to live in.

After swimming for awhile, Hermione and the water nymph who led her came to a massive stone wall. Carven upon it were swirls and twirls Hermione could mostly understand. They were in the language of the nymphs, which Hermione had studied, just not extensively. The spirit leading her tapped a series of rhythms on various parts of the stone, then turned to Hermione expecting her to do something.

Hermione would have loved to help out, however, she hadn't the foggiest what the nymph wanted her to do. Tap the wall, maybe? Cast a spell? Another good possibility. Without the use of her words, Hermione couldn't voice her confusion.

Luckily, the nymph seemed to understand her predicament and said, "Tap the center with your wand."

Hermione lifted her dragon heartstring wand and gently touched the center spiral. It caused the entire wall to shift, revealing a massive glowing portal. The spirit urged Hermione to go through it, which she did, albeit, hesitantly. As soon as she got close enough, she got pulled in.

The next few moments were one's Hermione would struggle to recall after her ordeal. She felt as though she were apparating, flooing, and portkeying all at the same time, just faster. It ended almost as quickly as it came, and left the poor bookworm feeling quite ill.

When she arrived in what she supposed was Avalon, Hermione found that her mostly nude form from before was now covered in a simple white dress, reminiscent to that of ancient Greeks. She shrugged and chalked it up to magic. It was always doing odd things. She nearly laughed. The old Hermione wouldn't have just accepted that magic did it. She would investigate _why_. It was sad, she decided. That person was gone- murdered by the war she fought so desperately.

Avalon was gorgeous. A spiraling castle jutted out of an almost purple lake. There were several rocks that were scattered about the lake, like pathways to different areas. In the distance, Hermione could see a dense forest, a green meadow, and even snowy mountains. The entire landscape was covered in a light fog; light enough that Hermione could see through it, but dense enough to create an air of mystery.

Hermione was currently sitting on one of the rocks that formed the walkways across the water. She gingerly stood up and decided to make her way to the castle. It seemed the most promising place to find information. Admittedly, Hermione took much longer than she anticipated to get to the castle. She was continually distracted by the vivacious landscape laid out before her, so when she finally made it to the gorgeous structure, she was surprised to see another person waiting for her there.

"Hermione," the person greeted.

When she recovered from her shock, Hermione replied, "Lady Marielle!"

Her ruby red lips quirked upwards in a grin. "Welcome to Avalon," she said gesturing around at the beautiful scenery.

Hermione felt her hands become sweaty. This was the first time she had met the ethereal lady as a child, and admittedly, the blonde was more terrifying now than ever. She must have sensed Hermione's distress, because she began leading her through the castle.

"Hermione," she began after a few moments of silence, "how have you acclimated, so far?"

"Getting to know people has been fine. There have been a few…" She stopped to think of an appropriate word to describe her discoveries, Avalon being the largest one.

The lady laughed. "Yes, I understand! Once, I was in your position too!" Her giggle rang through the empty halls.

Hermione joined in, feeling much more comfortable.

When their laughter died down, she continued, "I'm certain you have more questions to ask me."

The eleven year old nodded in were _many, many_ things she had questions about. And it seemed every time she was closer to getting an answer, more questions popped up. It was like a hydra.

"Follow me," she said, tugging Hermione down another corridor.

It was quite spacious- the room they were in. Impressive dark marble floors spanned the circular room, and the domed ceiling was charmed to show a gorgeous night sky. It was unlike anything Hermione had observed. The constellations she knew weren't there. In their places were stars she had never seen before.

"If this was supposed to clear up my questions, it really isn't helping," she muttered.

Marielle giggled beside her, placing a delicate hand over her ruby lips. "No, of course not. This is still your first year. Heavens, my first _century_ was all terribly confusing."

Hermione's eyes bugged out of her head. "Century! You never mentioned that!"

The blonde waved her hand dismissively and glided across the floor, further into the circular room. "That is hardly of importance now. What you do need to know, however, is that you and I aren't the only people to have graced these halls."

"Well, obviously," Hermione said irritably.

Marielle ignored her. "Each star," she said, gesturing at the ceiling, "is a person."

Hermione stepped further into the room, almost in a trance.

The blonde woman smiled, and grabbed a glittering white wand from seemingly, thin air. She tapped herself on the head, then followed suit on Hermione.

"Pay attention now, this is important information," she stated. She walked forward, however rather than going straight, she seemed to move up an invisible staircase. She stopped at a particularly bright star.

"This one is mine."

"Yours?"

"Yes. As I said, each star is a person. I meant that in the literal sense."

"Oh," Hermione said lamely, not entirely certain of how to respond.

Marielle winked at the girl. "Ahh, I suppose I should be more specific than that, yes?"

Hermione just stared at her.

The ethereal blonde played the girl no heed and moved to another bright star. "This," she said, pointing at it, "is another person you might have heard of." She grinned conspiratorially at Hermione. "Morgana."

The bookworm sucked in a deep breath. Of all of the women in magical history, Morgana was definitely the most prominent and powerful.

Marielle giggled like a schoolgirl, and tapped the glowing spot eagerly. A bright light shot down from the star, revealing a person. As the light faded, Hermione immediately knew who it was.

Standing tall and regal in deep violet purple robes was the same woman they had been talking about earlier- Morgana. She stepped forward and took one of Hermione's hands into her own.

In the back of Hermione's mind, she noticed how soft the famous enchantress's hands felt on her own, and how remarkably kind her smile was. Naturally, she wasn't paying any attention to the back of her mind; she was altogether far too bewitched by he fact the the most famous witch ever was right in front of her face, _touching her_.

In the background Marielle had collapsed midair and was laughing so hard she was even crying. This Marielle was nothing like her apparition and dream-induced self. Luckily, neither Hermione nor Morgana paid her any heed.

"Hermione," The purpled-robed enchantress said, "It is an honor to meet you."

The girl could barely fathom and comprehend what was said to her, let alone respond coherently, but she mustered all her remaining brainpower and forced out, "Yes, I can say the same."

"Well, I am certainly glad Marielle has called for me, she seems rather indisposed at the moment to explain anything of importance to you," she remarked, glancing briefly at the still floating and cackling witch behind her.

Hermione agreed with her assessment.

"To start off, I am under the assumption she has at least explained where you are and what you are doing here," she asked, redirecting her attention to the eleven-year old.

Hermione shook her head side to side. "Not really. I know we are in Avalon, but that is the extent of my knowledge."  
The regal woman sighed and summoned two very comfortable looking armchairs. She sat down on one gracefully and gestured for Hermione to do the same. They were going to be there awhile.

"Avalon," Morgana started after Hermione took her seat, "is not the mythical realm legend states it is. While it is mythical and another realm, it is simply not what it has been made out to be in myth."

"What it is, though," she continued, " is the final resting place for people like me, Marielle, and eventually, you as well."

Hermione wasn't all too surprised. It made a convoluted sort of sense in her mind.

"We are all Ladies, or in some cases, Lords, called by the ancient magics to ensure balance is kept in both the magical and muggle worlds. You," she said, looking at Hermione, "have already met these ancient beings. They are the spirits who gifted you powers to assist you in your quest of balance."

Hermione was relieved. Finally, she was getting the answers she so desperately craved. It was all making sense to her too, thankfully.

"There is much I am unable to tell you," the woman sighed. "However, I will impart upon you what I can."

"Why," Hermione asked before the woman could continue. "Why can you not tell me more?"

Morgana's kind features hardened and became more severe. "Unfortunately, the ancient magics prevent us from discussing everything with you. They may merely wish for you to learn for yourself, but I am of the opinion that they have a perverted sense of humor."

Hermione would have laughed if Morgana had not said it so harshly and severely. It seems there was a bit of a raw nerve there.

"Enough dallying, let's continue onward," she said briskly.

Hermione couldn't agree more.

"There will be very select people you will meet during the course of your journey that will help you with your task. Every Lady or Lord has two of them, but precious few ever know who they are or meet them. Only the most powerful of us will ever meet them and magically bind ourselves to them."

She smiled strangely at Hermione, "I am one of the fortunate few who had been blessed with meeting both of the people the fates have tied me with."

"Marielle," she called suddenly, "Please summon my comrades."

Marielle, who was still floating nodded and saluted the woman, and swam through the air to two more bright stars next to Morgana's. She tapped them gently, and in the same fashion as Morgana, two more figures appeared.

The first was a man. He had dirty blonde hair, and a ruggedly handsome face. He was quite knightley, and of course Hermione immediately knew who he was. King Arthur. He had to be.

The second person, another man, was very thin and had bushels of dark brown hair. Placed atop his messy hair was a very tall and pointy hat. Not necessarily what Hermione imagined of Merlin, but it was him nonetheless.

"Hermione I am certain you are already aware of the identities of my companions, but please allow me to formally introduce you. This is King Arthur and Merlin, respectively," Morgana said, standing to greet her comrades.

"It's a pleasure," Hermione managed. Standing before her were three of the most important people in myth. Especially Merlin. Even though Hermione was thrilled to meet the famed Morgana, Merlin was even better. He was a visionary. And as Ron would put it, 'on a chocolate frog card'.

Oh how she missed them- Ron and Harry. All of her friends and family, really. She had no regrets coming back to the past to complete whatever her mission here was, but she certainly did miss everyone she left behind. Not that it really mattered anyway. They were all dead.

Hermione shook her head to clear her thoughts. Right now, she should really be focusing on what is right in front of her face. Merlin's beard, she was distracted today. Actually, that phrase is rather inaccurate she mused. Merlin was right in front of her, and he certainly had no beard. She held back a giggle. How peculiar.

She gathered her thoughts again. She was forming a bad habit of letting them wander in the oddest places in the worst of times.

"Hermione," Morgana chided, "We have little time. Pay attention, please."

Hermione nodded, understanding the Sorceress's frustration.

The raven haired woman cleared her throat and continued. "We three are connected through a magical bond. Your goal right now should be locating your own comrades and cementing a connection. They will aid you in your quest to return balance to the world. Both worlds."

As helpful as Morgana said she would be, Hermione still had millions of questions floating around in her head. Yes, che could comprehend more of the big picture at hand, but those were only small portions to what was a tapestry larger than the entirety of Europe. It was frustrating.

"How will I know who they are?" Hermione asked. Out of all the things she wanted to ask, this was the first thing.

Morgana looked at Merlin. He smiled and took Hermione's hand conjuring more chairs for himself and Arthur in the process. He sat across from her and smiled gently.

"Hermione," he began, "You have a great many questions, and so little time to ask them. The best piece of advice I can give you, is to let your magic guide you. You have been chosen for this task for a reason- you need not be so doubtful of yourself."

Hermione choked up a bit. Merlin had hit exactly what Hermione was so worried about. Uncertainty. Failing. And an overwhelming sense of unworthiness. She felt so ill-prepared to try and take down Voldemort again. She had survived one war, but only just. Merlin! She could barely get herself out of that alive, trying to save even more people was out of the question, and now she was expected to fight a war by herself and save both the muggle and magical worlds? She couldn't. There was no way. Completely illogical.

Merlin stepped back, sensing her maelstrom of feelings whirling in and out of control. Arthur instead stepped forward and looked her deep into her now blue orbs, grasping her shoulders slightly.

"You are only eleven. Certainly, your mind is far more advanced, but you are only eleven. Stop worrying about what you do not have control over right now. You are being prepared to face difficulties and problems in the future. Focus on restoring your childhood."

Hermione shook violently in the famous king's hands. He let her go, and she fell back into the comfy seat trembling more. Tears ran down her face. Vaguely, she could feel warm arms wrap around her body.

"Hermione. My dear sweet child, I am no fool," came the soft voice of Marielle. "I have Seen the entirety of your life and I know it was not a happy one. I sent you to this time as an eleven year old so you could relive a childhood you never had. I know the magic is calling to you and is forcing you to remember what you came from. You need to overcome that."

Hermione nodded in the woman's soft embrace. Everytime the magic beckoned to her, she remembered exactly what she left in the first place. And she hated it.

"Come, let's get you home, non?" Marielle whispered.

Hermione agreed, and allowed the blonde to lead her back out to the lake, where she dove back into the warm waters and return to Beauxbatons.

After the eleven year old had gone, the four figures reconvened.

"I have never seen such power," Morgana whispered, amazed by the presence Hermione radiated earlier. She had never felt anything like it before.

The other three agreed. Hermione certainly was a force to be reckoned with.

"She is going to change the world," Merlin said, "If it is to be for good or ill is yet to be known."

Arthur sighed. "We can only hope it is for the good. The ancient powers have been wrong once. Should it happen with her…" he trailed off, letting the silence speak louder than his words ever could.

"No," Marielle interjected, "Stop doubting. You just told her yourself; she was chosen for a reason. Let us have faith in her." The conviction with which she spoke left the other three astounded. They would believe her today. Slowly, all four faded back into their stars on the ceiling, leaving the room entirely empty.

{Misty Lakes and Foggy Mountains}

Back at Beauxbatons, Hermione scuttled back to her dormitory and fell fast asleep. She had dealt with enough that night. Tomorrow she would start to sort out her problems.

(Misty Lakes and Foggy Mountains}

Entirely too soon, it was tomorrow, and Hermione somehow managed to drag herself out of bed and into new school robes. She had fallen asleep in her's last night. It's a good thing Irène wasn't there to notice. She would surely be displeased. Just as Hermione was about to leave, something from her trunk caught her eye.

It was the same silver and gold apple tree necklace she has traveled back in time with. She rubbed the golden apples with the pad of her thumb, then turned it over to look at the Lemercier crest residing upon it. She smiled at the little trinket. She had hardly glanced at it since she showed it to the Lemercier's to prove her identity. Seeing it again made her almost nostalgic. It seemed so long ago that she had woken up in their- now her's too- manor.

In a moment of impulsivity, she decided to wear it. She was a Lemercier now, afterall; it wouldn't look too out of place.

After a final glance in the mirror, Hermione headed out of her dormitory and ran straight into a concerned Louis.

"Where have you _been_?" he hissed at her.

She nearly rolled her eyes. Really, just because she looked like an eleven-year-old, didn't mean her mind was that young. In fact, if anything, her mind was older than his. Besides, She only missed the dinner feast. _It wasn't a big deal._

"Louis, really," she began, "You don't need to be so concerned for me."

His eyes bugged out of his head. "You aren't serious. You missed the feast last night," he deadpanned, "And," he continued on shrilly, "When I asked your dormmates about it later, they hadn't seen you either. So, I'll ask you again, _where were you_?"

Hermione sighed. This was going to get rather bothersome quite quickly. She was prone to disappear at odd moments. She really didn't want to go through the Inquisition every morning before she was allowed to leave for breakfast.

"I understand you are worried, I do, but I am capable of taking care of myself. I may look like an eleven-year-old, but I am just as old as you, and have been through much, _much_ , more than you," she said firmly.

He seemed a bit taken aback, but it didn't deter him. "Please, just humor me then, where were you?" the boy insisted.

"Alright," Hermione said, her resolve crumbling. "But, I'm not going to tell you now, and certainly not _here_ ," she finished, eyeing the corridor they were currently arguing in.

"Right after classes then," he agreed, "We still haven't had our weekly study session."

Hermione laughed. "Louis, it's Saturday. We don't have classes today."

He flushed. "Oh- right, well, after breakfast then," he stuttered, clearly embarrassed.

Hermione nodded her head and laughed all the way to the dining hall, having left Louis behind so he could put his book bag back in his room.

When she got in the hall she noticed Mathis and Amélie talking to each other at a table. Happily she strided over to them.

"Hermione!" Amélie exclaimed when she saw her. "Where were you yesterday? I looked all over for you?"

Mathis nodded in agreement. "We were worried," he said.

Hermione grinned sheepishly, a lie already at the tip of her tongue. "I got lost in the chateau and somehow ended back at my dormitory! The feast was already over, so I just went to bed."

It was amazing how easily the half-truth fell from her lips. She had never been particularly gifted at lying before, but that seemed to have changed. It was probably because she had such a serious task before her. Also, her entire life here was a sham. That would make sense too, she reasoned.

Both of her friends insisted she sit down and eat something immediately. She complied without resistance. She hadn't eaten last night, and she was hungry.

Approximately ten minutes into her croissant, There was a massive disturbance at the entryway of the dining room. All the first years turned to look, but nobody else seemed too surprised. It was a gaggle of students, both male and female, fawning over somebody. Or rather, two somebodies, in this case.

In the midst of group was Louis and Apolline, talking to each other. They didn't seem to notice nor care about the students surrounding them, and continued with their conversation.

All the first years looked confusedly at the scene before them. This was altogether quite unusual.

"What is going on," Mathis asked, staring at the crowd of students in front of them.

Before either Amélie or Hermione could answer, Leon appeared.

"Oh, that happens all the time," he explained, stealing some of Hermione's croissant. "Basically both of them have a fanclub of admirers and sometimes, when they are together somehow the veela hormone they unintentionally emit becomes stronger. It makes the funclubs go positively mad like that!"

All three of the others made sounds of understanding.

"Alright then," Amélie said after a moment of silence. Now that we know that, What is everyone going to do today? I propose we explore the castle!"

Leon immediately agreed. Quite enthusiastically too. Mathis and Hermione didn't respond with equal fervor.

"Sorry Amélie, I am already busy. I have already made plans to work with one of my dormmates on a potion," Mathis said apologetically.

"Oh that's alright," she said, slightly put out. "And you?" she asked Hermione.

Hermione grinned nervously, "I'm sorry too… I promised someone I would study with them."  
Amélie rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "Yes, well you are both in dormitory seven, so, I suppose it is to be expected that you'd be bookish."

Hermione and Mathis smiled at her. She seemed to be understanding, which was good. Hopefully she wouldn't hold it over them. Hermione finished her food, said goodbye, and left to find the library. Apolline and Louis were still talking with each other and Hermione didn't even want to try and contest with the throng of students surrounding them.

Despite being entirely new the the chateau, she managed to find the library with no problems.

It was empty, although that wasn't surprising. It was a saturday at the beginning of the term; all of the students would be off on the grounds relaxing in the sun.

She took a seat at a table in an alcove of the massive library. It was quite secluded, so Hermione didn't need to worry about prying eyes quite so much.

About half an hour later, Louis slid into the seat in front o her and pulled out a book. "Right, we can begin now," he said.

Hermione glanced around the room looking for onlookers. When she was sufficiently satisfied, she pulled out her wand and muttered, "Muffliato."

Her companion looked at her strangely but she just shrugged.

"Right…" he finally concluded. "Get on it then."

Hermione took a deep breath and began her story. When she had finished a good forty-five minutes later, he tapped his fingers against the desk in a rhythmic manner.

"You need to start locating those two people, n'est pas?"

Hermione nodded.

"I will help you then, though, I don't know know how I might be of assistance."

She appreciated the sentiment and had a vague idea of how he could help her. She figured she would be the only one able to locate the people that Morgana spoke of, but there was one thing Louis could do.

"Do tell," she began, "What are your plans after graduation?"

He looked at her confused. "The ministry, of course. My parents are quite insistent that I become an integral part of the French Wizengamot. Possibly even Chief Warlock, through if the wizengamot doesn't work out, I suspect they would be content with Minister as well."

"Right," Hermione smiled wickedly.

"Why do you ask?"

"Because, you will be first in line at the ministry to get information of some sort. Besides that, your father is part of the International Alliance of Witches and Wizards, isn't he?"

"Well of course, but I hardly see how that matters," He protested.

"Louis," she said seriously. "Think about it. Due to your status as a Delacour, you are automatically guaranteed a higher post in the Ministry. That, plus your marks here… I have no doubts that you will be ranked quite highly, even just out of Beauxbatons. You will be made aware of foreign problems, _especially ones regarding Dark Lords_ , very quickly. And with your father as part of the IAWW, you will have a constant source of information from that as well," she exclaimed. "Information is invaluable. I need to know what is going on with Voldemort at all times."

"But his name had barely been a whispering amongst pureblood circles. Why do you need information about him?"

Hermione nearly hit her face on the table. "Louis…"

He flushed, "Right, he is the evil wizard from you time. I understand now."

Hermione just nodded.

Louis straightened up and said, "I will get whatever information to you that I can, though I can't promise much right now."

She nodded.

"On another, much less serious note, let's study?" he asked holding up a transfiguration book.

Hermione laughed, "Yes, I have this potions essay that was assigned yesterday."

{Misty Lakes and Foggy Mountains}

Hello dearest readers,

I am deeply sorry for leaving you on read for so long. I promise, I have not given up on this story! In fact, that couldn't be farther from the truth. I have many things in the works for this story just brewing inside my head, ready to be put down on a page. I am also pretty certain I left you all on quite the cliffhanger last chapter, so I am deeply sorry for that, it was never my intention. School has become quite busy (double majoring sounds quite idyllic, but is really just stressful). Hopefully, my updates can become more consistent, but that is just a wish, I doubt my schedule will clear up much any time soon, however, I will try as hard as I can to update more frequently! Thank You to everyone who has stuck by me through this whole process, I appreciate you, and Welcome to everyone who is new here! I am excited that you have read this far. I certainly never expected this many people to have followed this story, so thank you all for making me very happy! I do have some questions to ask you. Namely, does Hermione seem a little unstable emotionally? Sometimes, I feel as though she might be, but that may just be me reading into it a little too much. I suppose that is really the only question I had, but any feedback you might have for me is wonderful. On another note, It is good to mention that since I have been so busy, this chapter was updated prior to my Betas reading through it because I felt bad having not updated in the past two or so months. So, I am certain that this chapter will be reuploaded at a later date. Along those lines, I also have plans to reupload some of my earlier chapters, as they are currently being betaed right now as well! If you have made it through this long winded rant, congratulations, I am finally done.

Sincerely,

Miss of the Manor


	16. Spring Drops in the Corridor

It was the first of October in 1971 when anything of notoriety occurred again in Hermione's life. After finding Avalon, everything seemed to quiet down in her not-so-little world. It was most blissful, Hermione concluded. Blissful, that is, until Madame Maxime made an announcement at the dinner feast that night.

"My dear students, as many of you are aware, the month of October has fallen upon us which means preparations for our annual Halloween Ball are to begin."

Chattering instantly erupted in the large hall. Her little table wasn't an exception; Amélie was gasping about her excitement to Leon, who for his part, looked just as excited as her. It seemed not even Mathis was immune to the allure of the ball, as his eyes were just a bit more sparkly than normal.

Hermione didn't really see what all the fuss was about. The last ball she attended was the one hosted by the Malfoy's last winter. It was hardly something to be giggly about. They were rather boring, in fact.

As Hermione observed the room more, she noticed that there were some that seemed just as lukewarm as her about the upcoming event. It was mostly seventh years. Even the girls who would normally die over hearing this news were less than enthused. Befuddled, Hermione turned her attention back to Madame Maxime to get more information.

"As decided by our Head Épaulers, the theme this year will be a nod to the humble beginnings of Witches and Wizards. Over the course of the next month, each of you will be taking an additional class to learn more about the beginnings of Witchcraft and Wizardry in preparation for the ball," Madame Maxime said, smiling at the excited congregation of students.

As if she sensed the students were about to begin talking again, she continued, "As per tradition, everyone in the student body will help plan and prepare for this ball. You will all answer to the Head Épaulers of your dormitory. They will be receiving instructions from the Student Committee, which is in charge of planning this ball."

Hermione stopped listening to the Headmistress in favor of thinking. Madame Maxime was only introducing the Students on the Committee, of course, which really wasn't important.

This ball sounded like a waste of time, although Hermione was quite pleased to hear she would be able to take another class. It would be interesting to focus more on the historical beginnings of Magical society.

Madame Maxime finished her little speech and the students started chattering at their tables again, though much more loud now that the headmistress had concluded.

Amélie was the first to begin talking at Hermione's table.

"I am so excited!" she gushed. "I have always had a grand time helping my mother plan our Balls at home, though I do wonder who they will select for our representative…"

"Representative," Hermione repeated confusedly. She must have missed something when Madame Maxime was introducing the Student Committee.

The other girl rolled her eyes. "Hermione, darling, you should really learn to listen. For every ball, there is a lucky individual chosen from each year to help plan the ball with the Student Committee, which is all seventh years, "she stated dryly. "Oh," she exclaimed a second later, "I do hope they pick me!"

Hermione had no doubts that Amélie would make a great choice from the first years. She had a quite focused mind when it came to things like this.

Mathis, Leon, and Amélie continued talking while Hermione finished her food. She had rather better things to do tonight than waste time on a ball. She would probably just skip the actual soiree in favor of studying.

After power eating through her food, Hermione headed for the library. There were some books she was wanting to get a look at, but was too busy trying to make her classwork seem like that of an intelligent first year, rather than that of the remarkably talented war heroine she was. Dummying things down was much more difficult than she imagined.

Hermione took her normal seat in the secluded alcove she favored and got to work searching for historical tomes in the massive library. Specifically, Hermione was looking for looks that referenced Lady Marielle and Morgana. If they couldn't tell her what was going on, maybe an old book could.

After gathering a hefty stack of ancient manuscripts, Hermione buckled down and began studying, looking for a link between the two mysterious figures she had met. She read for hours, but found nothing. Sighing, she took her unfinished books to the librarian, and checked them out for further examination.

As Hermione was making her way back to her dormitory, she decided to try an find the spring where she met the nymph a few weeks ago. The beautiful lady of water seemed to have some knowledge of what was going on and Hermione was determined to get some information somewhere.

Wandering through the somewhat chilly corridors below Beauxbatons, Hermione had no luck finding anything. It was rather frustrating as every time she was actively searching for information, she could never find anything. It was always an accident.

Sighing, Hermione found her way back to Dormitory Seven to go to bed for the night.

Just before she could walk into her room, Louis caught her attention. He was standing at the top of the stairway gesturing at her wildly. She rolled her eyes. He was quite dramatic, even if he claimed otherwise. She went over and looked at him expectantly.

"I have some urgent information!" he hissed. Now that Hermione was closer to him, he looked quite sickly. His face was pale and covered in an oily sheen. In the dim candlelight of the corridor, he could have been mistaken for a corpse.

Hermione followed him quickly to his personal room (benefits of being a Head , he had explained earlier).

He collapsed on the bed that resided in the corner of the room. His living space seemed just as disheveled as he did- papers were scattered everywhere, books were opened to random pages. When she looked closer, there was blood speckling a few of the parchment scrolls littered around. Bewildered and slightly horrified, she turned her attention back to Louis.

"What is going on?" she breathed.

He shook slightly. "I was gathering information like you said. I found something… or rather, I _saw_ something."

"What was it," Hermione encouraged.

He took a shuddering breath, "It was him. The man you fought. I saw what he did… not just the warfare, but much, much more." He gulped, unable to go on. His eyes glazed over, caught in the midst of the atrocities he saw.

Hermione watched him knowing not entirely comprehending his terror. Sure, Voldemort was a scary lunatic, but with the way Louis was acting, it seemed to run much deeper than just 'scary'. Hesitantly, she summoned a bucket of cold water to wipe his face with. She thought it might help.

It did. As soon as the cool, damp cloth touched his forehead he calmed down enough to keep talking.

"I saw the horcruxes. The process to make them…" he trailed off.

Hermione understood. Some things were just too difficult to talk about.

"That isn't all," he continued gravely. "The last part of my vision, I saw him talking to a group of people in masks. He is coming here."

Her blood ran cold. "No, that isn't possible," she denied. "He can't get into the school."

Louis shook his head, "Yes he can. All he needs is an invitation to the Halloween Ball."

"What?"

"The purpose of the ball is to help the seventh years network. There are going to be bunches of influential Witches and Wizards in every field of study there."

Hermione sighed. This wasn't good. She wasn't prepared to face him yet- heavens, she couldn't even find information about Marielle and Morgana.

Louis reached into his robes and pulled out a roll of parchment. Holding it out to her, he said, "This is the guest list for the ball. Look under the 'Dark Artifacts Specialists' category."

Hermione took the parchment from him and scrolled through its continents. Surely enough, the name 'Tom Riddle' appeared there. She sighed, tapping her fingers against her cheek.

"Okay," she finally relented, "We need a plan."

He stared at her.

She stared right back.

"You are mad is you think that is all that we will need. Actually, I would rather you avoid the ball altogether," he stated rather shrilly.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Honestly, I knew I would have to face him sometime. Now, that timeline has just accelerated…." she trailed off.

She was trying to sound confident and uncaring, though it didn't quite come across after she let out a shaky laugh. In all honesty, she would rather fly to Hogwarts on a stormy night than go to the ball, but that really wasn't an option she had as much as she loathed to admit it.

"You cannot possibly go," Louis deadpanned. "You cannot possibly be that dim to think that would be a good idea."

The bookworm huffed and glared at the boy. "I never said it was a good idea. There just aren't any better alternatives. Besides," she said with a wave of her hand, "we can spy on him."

Louis looked at her again. "There is no talking you out of this, is there?" he replied after a few moment.

She only smiled.

"Alright," he sighed, "I will trust you."

She grinned at him. "Good. Have a lovely night, Louis, and good luck tidying your room."

Hermione turned her back to the boy and flounced out of the room and up to her dorm. Unfortunately, her dorm mates were awake. She nearly cried.

"Hermione!" one of them called.

She shuddered, but smiled weakly at the raven-haired girl, Gloria.

"You must have heard the news?" she exclaimed.

Hermione shook her head. She hadn't heard anything peculiar.

The Headmistress has just posted the list of representatives for the ball. You have made it!" she squealed.

Hermione blanched. Of all of the things she did not want to do, this was at the very top of her list. She simply did not have time to deal with an asinine ball. There would also be the issue of Àmélie. She would be rather crushed to hear she wasn't chosen…

The witch turned her attention back to her scattered dorm mates, each anxiously awaiting her response.

"Oh… It's wonderful," Hermione commented.

The girls erupted into cheers. Hermione spoke with them for another fifteen excruciating minutes, then excused herself to bed. She was rather sleepy after all.

 **{Spring Drops in the Corridor}**

The next day, Hermione went to breakfast dreading to see Amélie. To her utter bewilderment, Amélie was beaming at anyone and anything. Certainly not the expression Hermione thought she would be seeing on the other girl today, that is certain.

"Hermione!" she giggled. "Can you believe it!"

"Hardly," Hermione said, though she hadn't the foggiest what Amélie was referring to.

She giggled gilishly again, "I know!" It's never been done before. I mean, to have two first year representatives! We made history, darling!"

"Yes," was all Hermione could respond.

It seemed that both she and Amélie were representatives for the first years.

Hermione finished her food quickly and left for her first class. She didn't want to be around when the rush of students came into the dining hall. They were all rather gossipy. Unfortunately, she was stopped halfway to class by the headmistress herself.

"Miss Lemercier, I'm glad to have caught you! Please follow me," she said, turning to walk briskly down the corridor.

Hermione quickly followed behind and when they finally stopped, she struggled to catch her breath. Madame Maxime had a long stride.

They were in a beautiful room. It had tall, arched ceilings, widows the stretched the entire walls, and beautiful wooden flooring. In the centre of the room the was a giant oval table with comfortable seats arranged neatly around it. Sitting in some of the chairs were students, mostly seventh years from what Hermione could tell.

"Welcome to the Student Committee Room. All of the school functions that occur are organized here," Madame Maxime explained. "Hurry and find your seat. The rest of the students will be here soon."

And with that final declaration, the headmistress waltzed out of the room, leaving Hermione to search for her seat. It wasn't difficult, her name was magically engraved in the back of the chair in shimmering gold letters with a name plate placed on the table in front the chair.

She grumbled and sat down. Being part of the Student Committee was going to be very troublesome and tiring. Such a waste of time, too.

Slowly, more students filled the room and took their seats at the table. Amélie showed up at some point and took her seat next to Hermione. The last person to enter was Louis, who sat at the head of the table and called the chattering students to order.

"Alright everyone, I know how exciting it must be for you all to be participating in this year's preparations, but if we want to finish everything in time, we must begin now," he called through the room.

Everyone instantly hushed and turned their attention to him. Hermione suspected everyone had a lot of respect for Louis. He was quite smart and handsome, too. Even the guys that would be jealous of him had immense respect for everything he did at the school.

He cleared his throat and continued, "As all of you have heard, we have two first years joining us this year. Congratulations to the both of you."

Everyone clapped politely, then focused on Louis again.

"The purpose of today's meeting is to discuss the theme of the ball as well as hand out assignments to each of you and the heads of the dormitories for the rest of the students to start their preparations as well," he stated. "Does anyone have any preferences as to the assignment they may desire?"

Several of the girls, including Amélie wanted to help with decorations for the ball, which suited everyone else just fine; they had no desire to have anything to do with that. Slowly more assignments were created, including food, relations with the special guests, and finally clean-up. Unsurprisingly, the clean-up team was rather small, but it sounded the most bearable option to her. Just as she was about to volunteer to join them, Louis began speaking again.

"Lastly, we need people to join the research team."

Hermione was instantly intrigued. Research was right up her alley. She joined immediately.

"Alright everyone, separate into you groups and discuss meeting times as well as individual assignments. I will be coming around and checking in with each group."

Hermione shuffled to a corner of the room where the small research team was gathering. There were mostly older students in the group, though that didn't surprise her. Most students detested research and studying. She really was quite the oddity.

A sixth or seventh year boy was speaking to the group. If Hermione recalled correctly, his name was Hugo.

"Ah, now that everyone is here-" he stopped when Hermione joined.

Hugo's lip twitched. "Miss Lemercier, I presume?"

Hermione nodded in affirmation.

"Right," he sighed dramatically. "Well, it is lovely to have you in the research team," he said waspishly.

Hermione grimace. He obviously doubted her. Ha. What a treat it will be proving him wrong, then.

"As all of you have heard, we are in charge of providing research to all the other teams in regards to how they should be planning the rest of the ball to make it as accurate as possible. We will also be working with Professor Andriev to create some of the classwork for the additional class."

Everyone nodded their head in understanding. It seemed some of them had done this before and already knew what to expect.

"For your first assignment, I want each of you to find a myth and research it. Be certain to take notes on the distinction between fantasy and reality. Our job is to separate the two and make predictions as to the culture of life in the beginning of wizardkind," he finished.

He handed out a timetable to everyone with instructions for further meeting times, then dismissed everyone to their next classes.

Just as Hermione was about to leave he pulled her aside.

"Just because you are a special first year doesn't mean I will treat you any differently than the rest of the research team. I will expect the same quality of work, or I will tell the headmistress you are unable to complete the duties of the research team and suggest a re-assignment."

Hermione scowled. He was rather rude to assume she was inept. "You don't need to worry about me," Hermione bit back, "I will be just fine. Until the next meeting." She said raising an eyebrow and walked out the room and to her first class.

He glared at her until she was gone.

 **{Spring Drops in the Corridor}**

It was the end of the day and Hermione was in the library, like usual. She was working on her assignment from the Committee today, but was having difficulty choosing an adequate myth to cover. She knew that if it wasn't original enough, Hugo would find some way to get her kicked off the team. She searched and searched, but found absolutely nothing.

She sighed and plopped down in a chair, rubbing her temples in an attempt to dispel the headache that was lingering there. After nearly ten minutes of just sitting, Hermione decided to go back to her dormitory to rest. She had done as much as she could today. Hopefully by tomorrow, she would be able to gather more inspiration to complete her assignment.

On her way back to the dormitory, she was accosted by a man she had never met before. In fact, she had only seen him sitting at the Professor's table during formal feasts. He was a rather peculiar looking man- gray and black waist-length hair and missy, thick eyebrows to match. He also sported a long and thick beard to complete his look. He reminded her somewhat of Dumbledore, which put her on edge.

"Miss Lemercier," he exclaimed. "Just the person I was looking for. Please," he said, gesturing to a door, "Step inside my office."

Hermione's gaze shifted along the corridor looking for someone to help her out of this situation. She most certainly did not want to step into this man's office. Finding no one, her brain shifted into overdrive, thinking of a possible excuse.

"I'm terribly sorry, professor, "she said quickly, "I must be returning to my dormitory. It is rather late you see…"

He smiled at her, "Ah, this will only be a second"

"Alright," she uneasily agreed, stepping into his office.

"Please, take a seat," he said.

Hermione hesitated, but complied anyway. She didn't want to offend this strange person.

He summoned a pot of tea, poured two cups, then gave one Hermione. She didn't touch it.

He smiled again, and said, "I have heard you are part of the research team?"

She nodded her head in affirmation.

"Wonderful, I have never seen one so young to join!"

Hermione smiled awkwardly at him. "Yes, I suppose it is rather unusual," she said, strained.

"I am Professor Andriev. I suppose you could call me the advisor of the research team." He grinned at her, but she only tensed more.

"Right," Hermione said shortly, "What can I help you with?"

He shook his head, "Miss Lemercier, I am here to offer my help to you. I know you have already been given your first assignment. How is that coming along?"

Hermione shifted in her chair. "It is going well," she lied, hoping he wouldn't question her any further.

Naturally, he did.

"What myth have you decided on?" he questioned.

She cursed internally. "I haven't quite decided, though I do have it narrowed down to a few I found interesting."

"Wonderful," he grinned. "I do have one thing for you," he said standing up and moving to a bookcase stuffed to the brim with tomes. He pulled one out and gave it to Hermione. "This is a book full of legends and myths. I suspect you may find some of interest," he mused, winking at her.

She snached the book from him, muttered a quick 'thank you', and bolted from his office.

He was rather unnerving, and Hermione didn't fancy spending more time around him than absolutely necessary. She made it to her dorm in record time and settled down in her bed with the book, contenting herself with falling asleep by reading it.

Most of the stories inside it were some Hermione already knew, though there were a few that surprised her. Nothing was quite calling to her, which was more than infuriating. It wasn't until she got to the final story in the book that she felt her pulse race. It was rather insignificant, only half a page, but it's contents were more than intriguing.

The story was titled _The Legend of the Lady_. It went as follows,

'Long before the emergence of order, there was chaos in magic. Indeed, the same was true for those who held the truly terrifying gift to wield such power. Little control and cravings for more led to bloodshed and heartache. It was a truly deplorable existence. There was nary one that could control the innate desire for magic to destroy. That is, until she emerged from the mists of life and death; many called her a goddess, though she never claimed such a title. She reigned in the uncontrollable prowess of the raw magic and gave it form, gave it beauty. She taught each sorcerer and sorceress to wield the dangerous power. None ever knew what she was, or even who she was, but one thing is certain- she was a benevolent ruler and the people quickly called for her to be the sovereign of magic. She declined. Rather, she insisted on being the protector of magic and those that controlled it. She dubbed herself the Lady.

It is said that she had existed from the beginning of time and continues to exist presently. She had taken many forms throughout her reign, shaping the way witches and wizards use magic. Some say that it is not possible for such a person to exist. Others say she must exist. It is truly impossible to know, for the Lady does not reveal herself so plainly to the people she defends.

Speculation of her origins have led many to believe she is the incarnation of magic itself, sent to protect the hapless fate of those cursed with it. Unfortunately, the truth will never be known. It cannot be known. All wizarkind can do is pray that she never fades from their side least the magic take control once more.'

Hermione was rather breathless. That was her. She knew it was. It sang truth through her soul; permeating every bit fully. She was the Lady. Her head was reeling with the implications of such a revelation. She could hardly comprehend what it all meant.

Hermione scrambled out of bed, disillusioned herself, and snuck through the hallways searching for something. Anything that could give her peace of mind.

She came upon the hot springs again. Pushing open the doors, she ran to the steaming water and jumped in, uncaring of her delicate silk nightdress getting ruined. The water seared her skin. She drifted through the water aimlessly, still trying to process what she had read.

It all seemed so unlikely. She was just a normal witch, not some supernatural being. Yet, she felt so connected to that story, more connected than anything she had ever felt before. She knew deep in her heart it had to be her.

Hermione swan to the surface of the pool and took greedy breaths of air, relishing in the feeling of her lungs expanding and compressing. It was soothing. She was acutely aware of her surroundings- of the nymphs swimming below her, of the gentle sway of the water, of her heartbeat. She floated in the spring unaware of the minutes and hours ticking away.

Finally she left the pool at peace and returned to the hallways, water dripping from her soggy nightdress and hair onto the cold tile of Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. Not entirely ready to go back to her dormitory, she wandered the corridors to the school, glancing out the floor to ceiling length windows at the inky night. Eventually she plopped down in a secluded alcove and looked out the window, surveying the stars. She fell asleep there, her hair still wet, and her damp body shivering in the drafty corridors of Beauxbatons.

 **{Spring Drops in the Corridor}**

She was awoken the next morning by Apolline.

"Hermione, get up," she said, whilst shaking the bookworm gently. "You've been here all night. Louis will have a fit if he finds you here."

Hermione stirred slowly. "Wha-" she grumbled groggily.

Apolline rolled her eyes, "Oh come here," she said pulling Hermione up by the arm and dragging her through the corridors.

Hermione was far too tired to fight back, so she allowed the girl to pull her through the school.

"What were you doing out there, anyway," the blonde questioned when she knew Hermione wasn't going to run away.

Hermione thought back to the previous night. She couldn't quite recall… everything was blurry and just ever so slightly out of reach.

Hermione shrugged in reply.

"Hmm, "Apolline murmured. "That's helpful."

The girl continued to drag Hermione through the school before coming to a stop in front of a statue of ballerina. The part-veela whispered something to the statue which winked and leapd aside to reveal a doorway which Appoline shoved Hermione through.

It was a stately bathroom that reminded Hermione of Hogwarts prefect's bathrooms. Appoline busied herself with filling the large bathtub with water and different scented soaps.

Meanwhile, Hermione considered the blonde before her. She didn't know the girl very well, especially compared to her brothers with whom Hermione knew quite well, if she did say so for herself. Apolline seemed nice, though Hermione had never taken the time to talk properly with her.

It seemed Appoline had finished filling the tub and was forcing Hermione out of her clothing and into the warm water.

Hermione went to protest but after a feisty glare from the other girl she realized she would be fighting a losing battle.

"Get in, quickly." Appoline ordered.

Hermione complied and began washing herself with the soaps that were proffered to her. She finished rapidly which seemed to suit Appoline just fine, as she dragged the poor girl out o the water and wrapped her in a cosy robe and began to work on managing Hermione's hair.

When the veela was satisfied she handed Hermione a set of robes with instructions to put them on. When Hermione had finished, the two girls left for the dining hall.

'Now that you have been taken care of, please, tell me why you were outside your dormitory at night," the older girl asked Hermione gently.

"I still can't remember. I'm sorry," she replied lamely.

Appoline sighed. "Alright, but please, when you remember tell me immediately."

Hermione aquiested. She had no reason to think that the girl would want to cause any harm. In fact, she seemed to be rather concerned with Hermione.

When they reached the dining hall they separated to go to their own tables- Appoline with her own friends and Hermione with hers.

Mathis had his head stuck in a book, while Leon and Amélie were chatting avidly. Both Leon and Amélie stopped their conversation briefly to greet Hermione but quickly went back to talking about decorations for the upcoming ball. Not wanting to join that particular conversation, she said hello to Mathis.

He looked up from his book and gave her a toothy smile.

"Hello Hermione! I've heard you joined the research team?" he asked.

"Yes," she answered, "How did you know?"

He scoffed. "Everyone knows. You are the only first year to have ever joined it. It is usually reserved for fifth years and up."

"Hmm," Hermione muttered.

"Congratulations, by the way," he added as an afterthought.

"Thanks," Hermione replied off-handedly.

It seemed rather odd to her that the research team would accept her, then. If they normally only took upper years, why was she an exception? What made her different?

Hermione brushed off those thoughts. Right now she was hungry, if the grumbling in her stomach was anything to go by.

Mathis went back to his book and Hermione finished her food and went to her classes for the day.

 **{Spring Drops in the Corridor}**

Hours later and Hermione's classes were over for the day. It had been so simple it was difficult to mask her true identity. Really, pretending to not know things was more complicated than learning new things. She had also developed the worst cough and sneeze that day. It was annoying as it kept her from focusing during class.

Hermione sighed and plopped down on her bed, wanting more than anything to snuggle under the baby blue covers and forget her entire day. She couldn't do that though; she simply had far too much to do. Later that night was a meeting for the research team, and she still needed to find a myth to bring in.

Her gaze was drawn to her desk where a certain book lay innocently. Hermione went over and gingerly grabbed the tome.

Suddenly, everything from the night before rushed back to her. The myth, the corridors, the hot spring, falling asleep sopping wet…

Hermione groaned. At least she knew where the cough and sneeze came from.

Her thoughts turned to the legend she read last night. It was rather interesting and something that Hermione could handle analyzing for the next few weeks or so. It would be perfect for the research team's assignment. Unique and intriguing.

Placing the book back on her desk, Hermione took out her homework and began the daunting process of dummying it down. Of all the things Hermione hated, this was at the very top of the list. It took so much time and kept her from progressing and learning. Oh well, there wasn't much she could do about it without blowing her cover.

 **{Spring Drops in the Corridor}**

Hours later, Hermione walked briskly through the corridors of Beauxbatons and to the meeting place of the research group. She sprang in just as Hugo was starting the meeting.

He scowled at her but said nothing.

Hermione rolled her eyes. _Boys_.

"Ahem, thank you all for coming tonight," Hugo stated, puffing out his chest.

It made him look rather ridiculous in Hermie's opinion, but she supposed he thought it made him look more impressive.

He cleared his throat and continued, "Please, pull out the myth you have found. We will take turns sharing with the group. I will of course," he said flashing an arrogant smile, "go first."

Slowly, each person in the room shared their stories with the group. Each of the stories were interesting, however mostly well-known. Especially Hugo's, though, Hermione tired to not let that cloud her judgement of his analysis.

Finally it was her turn. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her irrational fear of failing, and started reading. When she had finished, the faces she saw looking back at her were mainly shocked, though there were a few giving her looks of admiration. Hugo was not among either group.

In fact, he seemed to be rather triumphant. "Ah, Miss Lemercier, are you certain that is a reliable source? I haven't come across that myth in all my readings…"

Hermione bristled at the gloating tone of his voice, but before she could retaliate Professor Andriev stepped out of the shadows.

"Hugo," he said warningly, "I am the one that recommended her that particular fact," he continued, raising his brow, "it came from my personal collection."

The pompous boy was at a loss for words, but eventually his face fell into petulant acceptance.

The professor turned his attention back to Hermione. "You certainly have a knack for choosing interesting research topics, Miss Lemercier."

Hermione was uncomfortable, so she gave a stuttery laugh and tight smile.

Hugo turned the attention back to himself and began speaking once more. "Good to you all, for the next meeting be thinking about your favorite few myths. We will select five to study more in depth. Dismissed," he said, walking briskly out of his room.

Everyone, including Hermione, rushed to get out of the room. Unfortunately for the bookworm, she was called back by Professor Andriev.

"What can I do for you, professor?" Hermione questioned, her eyes glancing at all the exits around the room.

He smiled at her. "I wanted to ask you why you choose that particular story to share. Surely there were not any other myths that were more interesting to read?"

"It is hard to say," she said after thinking for a moment. There was no way she could reveal why she really chose the story, so she chose her next words carefully. "I suppose it is because I have never heard it previous to now. I have always loved learning new things, so this is no different."

"Hmm," he grumbled thoughtfully. "Thank you, Miss Lemercier. Please keep that book with you for the next few days. I will collect it from you later."

Hermione agreed an excused herself under the guise of studying with Louis. She wasn't technically lying either- she did have a study session planned with Louis, it just wasn't for a few more hours.

In the meantime, she headed in the direction of the library. Hopefully, she would be able to find more information about the origins of the Lady.

A few hours later saw Hermione frustrated again. Almost frustrated enough to throw a book at the wall. She restrained herself, though. It wouldn't do to harm a book sue to her petty impatience. She groaned and dropped her head on the table. At this rate, it was going to be impossible to find any information regarding the Lady at all.

Louis was rather amused when he saw Hermione's head pressed against the library table a few minutes later.

"Hermione, what is going on," he asked, stifling a laugh behind his hand.

She only glared at the boy.

"I'm glad one of us is cheerful today," he grumbled and took a seat across from her.

She propped her head on her hand. "I'm sorry, I am just worked up from a research team meeting earlier. I'm quite convinced Hugo thinks I am an incapable little girl," she sighed.

He patted her arm consolingly. "Well, to be fair, you are a little girl."

Hermione slapped her arm. "Louis!"

He laughed, but apologised.

She sighed again and let her head drop to the table once more.

"What else happened," Louis asked, genuinely concerned now.

Hermione raised her head to meet his gaze.

"What do you know about Professor Andriev," she questioned.

"Professor Andriev," he mimicked, confused. "What does he have to do with anything?"

"Everything," she sighed. "I met him last night and he gave me a rather peculiar book. Today he was at the meeting and kept me behind to ask some questions."

"That doesn't seem too out of the ordinary, though him asking you into his office is a bit strange," he replied.

"Maybe," she agreed, "But, I can't help but feel uneasy around him."

He nodded his head. "I will keep an eye on him. He has always been outlandish, but if you you getting a feeling…"

"Thanks, Louis," she said gratefully.

"Don't mention it."

"Shall we study something, then?" he asked.

"Definitely," she shot back, then sneezed loudly.

"Hermione…" he said suspiciously, "Are you not telling me something.

"I've told you everything," she replied quickly, "Promise!"

It was only a little lie. She just didn't want Louis to know she had snuck out last night, jumped into the hot springs, then fell asleep in a corridor. For some reason, she thought he might overreact a bit.

"If you say so," he finally said.

"I do."

 **{Spring Drops in the Corridor}**

Thank you to everyone who had read until now and waited for updates! I know it has been a long minute since I have posted, but I still have no intentions of stopping!

Miss of the Manor


	17. A Tango of Taffeta

"What a useless class," Hermione muttered to herself. She had just come from the one class she wished she could skip, and no, it was not Divination. She didn't need to worry about that class until next year. Besides, this class was far worse.

Etiquette.

Unfortunately, it was a required class for all students at Beauxbatons. 'An utterly useless class,' she thought. 'Why couldn't something useful, like Arithmancy be required?'

"What did you say?" asked Amélie, who was coming from the same class as Hermione. But unlike the bookworm, Amélie absolutely loved every second of the aforementioned class. dances, formal dinners, and tea parties were all things she enjoyed planning and participating in.

Hermione couldn't say the same. She would rather be studying- it was at least beneficial.

"Oh, nothing," Hermione replied to her friend.

The two were on their way to Ancient Magical History, the additional class that was created to help students prepare for the upcoming ball. Normally, Hermione would have been thrilled at the prospect of a new class, but not this one. The professor teaching it was rather... peculiar, to say the least.

"I am actually excited for our next class. It is for the ball, afterall," Amélie sighed dreamily.

Hermione rolled her eyes. The only good thing about this class was that she was certain she would be able to find out more information about the Lady. It was Professor Andriev that gave her a book containing information about her, so it made sense that he would have more.

"I'm glad you are finally taking an interest in Magical History. If only you could be this enthusiastic about Transfiguration," Hermione teased.

"Oh please darling, we both know I am only interested in this because it will give me ideas for the Ball decorations."

Hermione laughed, "I figured as much."

Both the girls giggled as they walked into Professor Andriev's classroom. Just like the man who taught there, the room was unsettling. The walls were covered in different posters of propaganda from Grindelwald's era- both for and against the aforementioned dark wizard. And that wasn't the most odd thing there, no, it was the fully functioning guillotine that sat in the corner of the room that really made most people uncomfortable. There were even rumors that he kept even more macabre devices in his office. Hermione never saw such things personally, though it wouldn't surprise her if he had some things hidden away from prying eyes…

His classroom wasn't all horrible. He actually had some interesting artifacts of magical history like ancient wands made from rough wood and primitive cores. Those were rather intriguing.

Loen and Mathis were already in the classroom when the two girls arrived and were frantically waving the two over to the seats they had saved. Well, at least Leon was frantically waving. Mathis was busy with a book already.

"Hey guys! How was the girl's etiquette class?" Leon asked.

Hermione just sighed and Amélie went off on a long, excruciatingly detailed tangent of their lesson on what type of tea to serve during a tea party. Leon was listening avidly and nodding his head with the ecstatic girl.

Hermione left them to their conversation and instead joined Mathis.

"Hello Mathis, what are you reading?" she asked him.

He startled. "Oh, hello Hermione. It's…" he turned to the front cover and showed it to her, " _Magical and Muggle History: Intertwining_."

"Fascinating! Is it any good?"

"Oh yes," he nodded his head avidly. "Very."

Hermione smiled at him, "I'll have to read it sometime."

"I'll lend it to you when I am finished," he offered.

"I'd appreciate that."

"Attention class, we are going to begin now," Professor Adriev called to the chattering class.

Hermione instantly felt uneasy, but got out a quill and parchment anyway. Despite his unnerving demeanor, he _did_ have good information. Information that Hermione desperately needed.

Hermione diligently took notes on the lesson, however, she was disappointment nearly an hour and a half later when class ended and she still had not received the answers she was looking for. The research team had already chosen which myths to focus on and naturally, Hermine's was one of them. Unfortunately, it seemed the professor was being a bit lackadaisical in teaching hers to the student body.

Stifling a sigh, she took off for the library. Classes were finished for the day and she wasn't eager to rejoin the masses of students flooding the common spaces. Normally Mathis would have joined her, but he became rather busy talking to a certain witch recently.

Absolutely enamoured; that was Hermione's diagnosis. It didn't really bother her, though. She was quite content being by herself searching fruitlessly for information about the Lady. Fruitless being the key word. She still hadn't made anymore progress in her investigation. No progress, at least, since Professor Andriev gave her his book, which he conveniently took back a week ago.

There was also the issue of facing Voldemort in a little less than a week. She hadn't thought of any plans to deal with him and was running very short on _time_.

She nearly snorted.

Time always seemed to be something she never did have quite enough of, even in her original timeline.

Hermione continued in her thoughts all the way up to the library, but was pulled into an alcove just as she was about to enter the sanctuary.

Hermione instantly unsheathed her wand and pressed it against the person's chest.

Louis held up his hands.

"Woah, sorry," he said.

Hermione glared at him and sheathed her wand again.

"Louis, you really must stop doing that. I still have the reflexes from… you know what, and I seriously doubt they are going to fade anytime soon," she muttered, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Right…" he replied.

Hermione began tapping her foot, as if to say 'get on with it'.

Louis seemed to take the hint.

"I have some letters for you."

They were from Lucius and… Abraxas? That was odd. Abraxas had never contacted her before.

"Why do you have my letters?" Hermione asked.

"They are international, so they are tested for curses and such," he replied.

Hermione nodded in reply. "Thanks, then."

"Of course. To the library?"

"Let's."

The pair settled in Hermione's preferred spot; the back of the library, where no one could listen into her conversations. She could also see anyone nearby before they could see her. In other words, it was perfect for someone who had something to hide.

The two students fell into a companionable silence as Louis pulled out a transfiguration essay that was due next week and Hermione started reading her letters.

She decided to start with Lucius's, which read:

 _My Dearest Cousin Hermione,_

 _How have you enjoyed beauxbatons so far? I'm sure you are doing excellent (you are the finest lady in every pureblood circle, afterall)._

 _I have heard from my mother that you were selected to help plan the latest ball. Congratulations. I have no doubt that the upcoming soiree will be the best to grace the halls of the Academy yet._

Hermione snorted. Lucius was such a brown noser.

 _I have excellent news. Father had received an invitation to attend, and is bringing me along. I suspect he will be sending you a letter about it soon._

 _Well Wishes,_

 _Your Favorite (and only) Cousin,_

 _Lucius Malfoy_

Of course Abraxas was invited to the ball. Hermione couldn't believe she was so foolish. Even though Abraxas wasn't on the School Board for Beauxbatons, he was still an extremely influential wizard. He was probably the one that got Voldemort on the list in the first place.

Hermione cursed quietly under her breath.

It was loud enough to pull Louis out of his book. "What?"

"Abraxas. It was Abraxas."

"Your uncle?" Louis asked. "What did he do?"

Hermione stared at him. "Louis, for someone that is so smart, you really don't know how to make connections, do you?"

He looked affronted. "Just tell me!"

The eleven year old let out a long suffering sigh, "It was Abraxas that got Voldemort on the invitation list for the Ball. Now we need to deal with both of them."

"Well," he said after a moment, "that isn't good news. Though, with you there really is never good news, is there?"

"You don't even know," she muttered, thinking back to every single day since she met Harry.

"We're going to need a plan," Louis started, pointing out the obvious.

"Have any ideas?" Hermione replied.

"Not a single one,"

"Of course not."

Hermione turned her attention to the unread letter sitting innocently on the table. Grabbing it, she broke the seal holding the envelope shut. She pulled out the letter and read:

 _Lady Hermione Lemercier,_

 _I am pleased to inform you that my son and I will be in attendance of the latest ball that Beauxbatons is hosting. I have since heard you are assisting in the planning. I shall expect a grand ball, then. I also have the most unique of acquaintances for you to meet. He has been rather interested in you since the the New Years Ball at my Manor. Congratulations._

 _Your Uncle,_

 _Lord Abraxas Malfoy_

" _Merde_."

Louis raised an eyebrow. "What could Lord Malfoy senior have said to you to elicit that response?"

"Voldemort already knows who I am."

" _Merde_ ," Louis echoed.

Hermione nodded.

"This situation just got worse in matter of seconds," he commented.

"Doesn't it always," she said dryly.

Hours later, Hermione stumbled back into her dormitory. She and Louis tried to formulate a plan, but nothing came of it.

Ready to cry, Hermione was content in charming the curtains of her bed closed and sob herself to sleep, but sitting on the top of her pillow, was one more letter. It was from her father.

 _Ma Feé,_

 _I'm certain you have heard the news about the Dark Lord, and you uncle and cousin coming to the ball. I shall do my best to shield you from them, but I cannot make many promises. From what you have told both your mother and I, he is not a man to be trifled with. I don't believe it is currently in our best interests to spurn him- especially so publicly._

 _I know you won't like to hear this, but, it may work in our favor to ally with him. Not in any real sense of course, but to spy on him. My occlumency shields are enough to keep him out of anything important, and I believe that you will be protected by the same magic that brought you here._

 _Don't panic ma Feé, we will figure this out together. Your mother sends her love._

 _Love,_

 _Papa_

As much as Hermione loathed to admit it, he had a point. Allying with Voldemort would prove to be a helpful way to garner information. Gathering her resolve, she began to get ready for what new week would bring.

 **{A Tango of Taffeta}**

Hermione was sitting in her final class before the ball- Professor Andriev's. He had finally taken it upon himself to teach about the Lady, which lifted Hermione's rather anxious spirit.

"As some of you may know," the professor began, "There is a millenia old legend dedicated to a very particular woman."

Chattering instantly ensued in the classroom. Many of the purebloods from ancient and noble families looked at the professor with interest in their eyes.

Hermione was rather confused. _How did they all know about the Lady?_

"Yes yes, I know, this is a topic of great excitement, but please, hold all questions until the end of the lecture."

The students instantly quieted down and turned the attention to the professor, ready to dutifully listen.

"There is a prominent figure in wizarding history referred to only as 'the Lady'. According to legend, she gave early witches and wizards the ability to shape and control magic. Up until that point, magic was dangerous, raw, even. It controlled magical people- made them crave bloodshed- or so the legend states. The Lady, she was a sort of teacher, though she only wanted to be known as a protector."

A student in the back of the classroom, Filipe, if Hermione recalled correctly, raised his hand. "Professor," he said after Andriev acknowledged him, "Why is this important? Shouldn't the last day of class be spent learning something that will actually affect us now?"

Many of the students gawked at him, Amélie included.

"Ah," the professor responded, smiling kindly at the student. "That is a great question. The answer lies in the legend. The Lady protects the people from their own innate urges, even today. If the Lady were to fail, what would happen?"

Mathis answered. "If the legend is correct, people would be unable to control magic."

Professor Andrived nodded grimly. "That is correct."

"But then why is it that dark wizards exist? When Grindelwald was at the height of his power, wouldn't the magic of the lady protect us? Or for that matter, shouldn't dark wizards not exist at all?" the same student as before asked.

Silence reigned the classroom.

The professor heaved a sigh, "Have any of you considered the possibility that the Lady is disappearing?"

Outraged screaming and histeria overtook the classroom. Amélie look pale as a Ghost. Hermione patted her awkwardly on the back, and looked at Leon for help. He was always better at comforting than she was.

Leon, for his part, wasn't grave, nor was he cheerful. He wore an emotion Hermione had never seen on him before.

"Professor," the part-veela shouted, "That is not possible."

Silence fell upon the class again, upon hearing Leon's confident words.

"And what makes you say that, Mister Delacour?"

"My family has always believed in the Lady. She will not abandon us," he stated loudly.

Filipe scoffed, "If she even exists."

Angry purebloods began shouting at him. Other students agreed with Filipe and began arguing with the purebloods. Professor Andrive tried to regain control of the class, but the students weren't in the mood to listen to him.

Hermione was just sitting there in a panic. Most of the people agreeing with Filipe were muggleborns. Chances were very high that many of the pureblood students would be writing home about the ball. This disturbance would certainly come up. If the purebloods were angry enough about it, Voldemort would find a way to manipulate the situation in his favor.

Before she could deliberate anymore, she cast a _sonorous_ charm and shouted, "That is quite enough!"

Everyone turned to look at her.

"Have you all lost your sense of decorum? We are in a classroom, for Merlin's sake. Get ahold of yourselves!"

"Thank you, Miss Lemercier, I will handle the situation from here," the professor said quietly.

She nodded and settled deep into her chair, ending the spell, and wanting to disappear. She never was fond of yelling.

"I see you all aren't mature enough to cover this subject, so I am afraid class is dismissed."

The opinion was mixed throughout all the students. Some were glad to be out of class early, but most were disappointed they wouldn't be able to hear the end of the lesson.

Hermione, though? She was positively furious. Finally, finally, she was getting the information she needed. Of course the class had to ruin it for her. She huffed and stalked off to the library.

After she was settled in what was now her corner, she cried.

Louis came skidding around the corner only seconds later.

"What's wrong?" he asked, out of breath and leaning heavily and a bookcase.

The sobbing girl couldn't answer for a moment. "I just want to know who I am," Hermione hiccuped softly.

Louis sighed and plopped down next to her on the window seat Hermione was sitting on.

"You are Hermione Lemercier, witch extraordinaire," he supplied.

She shook her head. "No. I may be that, but there is much more to the story," she whispered. "I am also Hermione Granger, Brightest Witch of Her Age, Know-It-All Swotty Bookworm."

"War Heroine," he added.

"That too,"she agreed. "There is more, though.

Louis looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"I can't explain it. I don't even know for sure."

Louis didn't really get it, but he kept quiet. Right now, Hermione needed comfort.

"Hey," she asked after a while, realizing something. "How did you find me so quickly? Also, how did you know I was upset?"

Louis froze. "I don't actually know," he said after thinking for a moment. "I just had a feeling that you were in distress. I figured you would be in the library, so I ran here."

Hermione frowned. How peculiar.

Rather than investigate it further, Hermione just sat there and enjoyed Louis's company. They talked about everything under the sun until she felt ready enough to rejoin everyone in the dining hall for the feast.

When they arrived Hermione went over to her friends and Louis sat with the rest of the épaulers.

"Hermione! Where were you?" Amélie asked.

"I was in the library," she responded.

"With Louis? Again?" Amélie said, unbelieving.

"Yes," Hermione confirmed.

"You are so strange. If I had Louis to myself, I wouldn't waste it studying…" she trailed off.

"Amélie!" Leon exclaimed, "I did not need to know that!"

She giggled. "Oh, don't you worry your pretty little head about it, Leon."

Hermione rolled her eyes and looked at Mathis, who was busy picking at his food.

"Is everything alright?" she asked him.

He sighed. "Not really. Professor Andriev's class is bothering me."

"How so?"

"Today, when everyone started arguing, I noticed something disturbing. They were all separating themselves into groups…"

She nodded her head, "Yeah, I saw it too."

"That's not all," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "My mother sent me a letter, except it didn't sound like her at all. I'm worried something might have happened."

"Mathis…"

"I know," he said. "She is supposed to be at the ball. Hopefully, everything is alright."

Hermione absentmindedly patted his shoulder. Her mind was racing with possibilities. Could it be Voldemort? It didn't seem too likely, but Mathis did have a muggleborn father…

She bit her lip. There was no way to tell until tomorrow. Lazily, students drifted out of the hall and back to their dormitories of the night. At some point the bookworm was dragged off by her fellow roomates under the guise of beauty sleep for the ball. She allowed it to happen, not having any energy to protest.

 **{A Tango of Taffeta}**

The next day dawned much faster than Hermione would have liked. If she was being perfectly honest, she would have liked to skip this day altogether. Nonetheless, today was important, so she summoned whatever remained of her Gryffindor courage, and braved her roomates pleas to let them get her ready for the night. She allowed them the pleasure on the condition that they leave her alone for the rest of the month.

Her roomates told her to be back by three, and sent her off until then. Hermione was glad. Louis would undoubtedly be stressed trying to put the Ball together, so she was quite content scampering off to the library for awhile. On her way there, she bumped into Mathis who was also going to their sanctuary. They chatted amiably then parted ways to find books.

Hermione was in the thick of the most ancient books Beauxbatons had to offer, when someone tapped her shoulder.

"My Lady Hermione, how lovely to see you again," drawled a posh voice.

Hermione turned around. "Lucius! The pleasure is all mine."

He laughed, "Yes, I'm sure. Father and I arrived early. The headmistress has given me permission to too around the grounds. Would you perhaps be amiable for a walk?"

"Always," she replied, grabbing the arm he offered her.

"Do tell," he said as they walked out the library and in the direction of the front doors, "How has it been the past few months? I hope Beauxbatons is faring well?"

"Oh yes," she replied courteously, "Very. How is Hogwarts?"

Lucius scowled. "The same as always, I suppose."

Silence hung in the air for awhile. To fill the awkwardness, Hermione pointed out the several types of flowers that Beauxbatons meticulously grew in the gardens. Lucius was polite as ever and listened intently, occasionally asking questions.

After awhile, he pulled her onto a bench.

"Cousin, there is something you must know."

"Do tell," she replied.

The blonde sighed heavily, "My father mentioned a man in his letter, yes?"

She nodded.

"Right," he said, almost to himself, "I must impress the importance of pleasing him. He is a dangerous ally, but an even more dangerous enemy."

Hermione nodded in agreement. Lucius was certainly correct about that, but one thing was nagging her.

"Why are you telling me this?" she asked.

He blinked and stared at her. "Hermione," he whispered urgently, "You are the only child of both the Lemerciers and the Malfoys. Politically speaking, you are worth more than half of the purebloods at Hogwarts alone. He will be interested in you. Very, in fact. You need to be careful."

"I knew all of that already. What I don't understand is why you are telling me," she said.

"You are my only cousin. Why wouldn't I tell you?"

He had a point, though Hermione had never painted him as a family man. When she thought about it now, it made sense. Everything he did, even in her original time, was to protect Draco and Narcissa, no matter how convoluted his reasonings were. And now, he was doing everything in his power to please his father. _And keep her safe, it seemed._

"Thank you for telling me," Hermine finally whispered.

He nodded imperceptibly, and stood up, offering a hand to her. She took it and they continued their walk. At three, he dropped her off at the entrance to her dormitory, and walked off to find his father again.

Hermione was instantly grappled by her roommates and primped and fluffed for the ball. At precisely six they deemed her ready, and sent her off.

She bumped into Amélie in the waiting room, and sat down to talk with her.

"Oh Hermione! I am simply so excited for everyone see the Ball. It looks simply divine," she squealed.

"I'm sure it does," Hermione muttered, not particularly paying attention to the exuberant girl next to her.

The aforementioned exuberant girl seemed to notice the bookworm wasn't paying too much attention to her, and scowled. "You don't need to worry about anything, by the way. It is just a Ball. It's not like you haven't been to one before."

"It's not that. I'm just…" she trailed off, at a loss for words.

"You figure that out darling. And don't look now, but a handsome blonde that I'm certain I've never seen before is coming our way!"

Hermione glanced up to see her dear cousin Lucius walking toward them.

"Lady Hermione, we meet again," he said, grabbing her hand and placing a delicate kiss upon it.

"Lord Lucius, always a pleasure. I'm not sure you've met my friend, Lady Caspari? Our fathers do business together."

"Of course. It's lovely to meet you," he said, bowing and placing a perfunctory kiss on her hand.

She giggled and bowed back.

"I am Lady Hermione's cousin, Lord Malfoy."

The girl gasped delicately. She had certainly heard that name before. "It is an honour, Lord Malfoy!"

He smiled charmingly and turned back to Hermione. "Father is of the opinion that I should escort you in. Shall we go?"

Hermione nodded and allowed him to pull her out from the chair. "Lead the way."

They walked into the opulent Ballroom and marvelled at the beauty of the whole place. The Decoration Team did a wonderful job. The entire ballroom was filled with floating candles, just like Hogwarts, and at every corner of the room, a different magical myth was represented. In the very center, was a large piece of stained glass. It was an angelic woman in a bright yellow gown and holding a jewel-encrusted scepter. Atop her head, was a magnificent crown.

"Beautiful, isn't it," Luscious commented when he saw her looking at the focal point of the room.

Hermione nodded her head. "Yes."

Her cousin continued to steer her into the room, and toward their fathers.

"My Lady Lemercier, tt is wonderful to acquaint with you once again," Abraxas drawled, bowing at her.

She returned his remarks and greeted her father.

"Ma Feé, it has been awhile. It looks like Beauxbatons has been treating you well," he commented.

"It seems to me that she is doing well to Beauxbatons," a third, very handsome, and _young_ , man interjected. He had dark, wavy hair, and dark mysterious eyes, though if Hermione looked close enough, she could see the faintest glimmer of scarlet shining in their depths.

"Ah, forgive me, monsieur, but we have not been introduced. I am Lady Hermione Lemercier," Hermione said, curtsying deeply.

"It is a pleasure, Lady Lemercier," he said, taking her hand and placing a kiss upon it. "I am Lord Riddle."

Hermione fought to keep her eyebrows from raising. _He didn't go by Voldemort yet_? How interesting. She had thought that he would have already taken his moniker publically. Perhaps he didn't want to draw too much attention to himself quite yet. He was also very youthful, especially for someone born in the 1940's. In fact, she should be in his fifties, which is a far cry from the twentyish years he looked to be right now.

"I have heard from your uncle, and now your father, how talented you are. After seeing this Ball, I am more than inclined to believe them," Voldemort stated.

Hermione smiled, trying to make it seem as though she was pleased at receiving a compliment from him. "Thank you, though I cannot take credit for the Ballroom. I was merely on the research team. We helped create classes to prepare for the ball."

"You are far too modest, Lady Lemercier. The research team is in charge of far more than that," the man said.

Hermione declined from commenting, and instead let her father begin talking about his business with Gringotts. The three men seemed content with the shift in conversation, and left the two children to themselves.

Lucius offered Hermione a dance, but she was far too breathless and preoccupied for that. Instead, she asked him to fetch drinks while she sat down.

Voldemort was nothing like she thought he would be. He was charming, and so strikingly _normal_. It left her feeling anxious. If he was this charismatic with everybody, she had no trouble seeing how he could win over an entire population of magical people.

Lucius came back with the drinks and made idle talk with her. Normally she would complain, but her alternative was going back and socializing with _him_ and that seemed more unbearable than drivel, so she settled deeper into her seat and buckled down for an evening with Lucius talking her ear off.

At some point, nearly an hour and a half later, the blonde managed to get her to agree to a dance. As they spun around the floor, he began talking again.

"You know, Father has suggested to your father that you begin attending Hogwarts."

"What?" Hermione breathed.

Lucius nodded his head. "He says it is so I can keep an eye out for you."

 _What an absurd notion._ "Oh?"

"Yes. As I said earlier, you are a well sought after witch. It _would_ be better for you to be looked after by family," he concluded.

"Right…" Hermione said lamely.

The song ended, and Lucius directed her back to the three adults they had left earlier.

"Lovely to see you both again. I hope you are having a good time," Laurent said.

"Very much so, thank you Father. Lord Lucius was just telling me how you would like to send me to Hogwarts?" Hermione commented dryly.

"Not quite, Ma Feé. Lord Malfoy would like to see you attend Hogwarts, but I believe Beauxbatons is best for you right now. Lord Riddle agrees," Laurent replied to his angry daughter.

"I see," Hermione said, visibly relaxing. "Well, I should be leaving. It is getting rather late, and I am not anxious to sleep away most of tomorrow. It was lovely seeing you, Father, Lord Malfoy. And It was a pleasure to meet you Lord Riddle," she said, curtsying to each one.

They returned her pleasantries and let Lucius escort her out.

" _He_ seemed to be very pleased with you," the boy said conversationally.

Hermione nodded her head and gave him a weak smile. "I would think so. I have heard my grace is unparalleled."

He chuckled and agreed.

They walked the rest of the way back to the dormitory in silence.

When they arrived, he let her go and she thanked him for helping her.

"It was my pleasure cousin. Hopefully, we see eachother soon. The Holidays will be upon us before you know it," he said.

"Yes, I agree. It was lovely to see you again," she replied, then walked into her dormitory.

Her room, much to her pleasure, was devoid of anyone but her. She took the time to sit down and think through the night. Sighing, she took out a journal, and began detailing her encounters with Voldemort, so she could review them later. There might be something she was missing entirely. It was a shame she couldn't just imbue her memories into the diary.

It was then that Hermione realized there were two ways she would go about doing so- the first being creating a horcrux, which she immediately shot down, and the second had to do with a particular white stone.

Hermione bolted over to her wardrobe, where her beloved beaded bag was stored. She took it out and summoned the Stone. If she recalled, Lady Marielle said that it would help her when she was stuck. She wasn't necessarily stuck, per say, but it was worth a shot. Padding her way back to the journal, she set the stone on it's inky pages and came to the sudden realization that she had absolutely no clue how to use the Stone.

Groaning, she let her head drop on the desk. Why is it whenever she had something going for her, she couldn't quite follow through due to a lack of information? It was beyond frustrating.

She picked up both the journal and Stone and wandered out into the drafty corridors of Beauxbatons. Her only hope now was to find the Hot Springs and get to Avalon to ask Lady Marielle.

Merlin must have heard her prayers, because only minutes later she was waltzing her way into the castle in Avalon.

She marched right over to the Constellation Room, and tapped Marielle's star. The woman promptly materialized and greeted her.

"Why, hello, Miss Hermione. I assume you are here about the Stone?" she asked,

"That's right," Hermione replied tersely.

The blonde raised her eyebrows. "Well? What do you want to know?"

"How do I transfer memories into this journal?" she asked, holding up the leather-bound book.

"Oh, that's simple," she laughed. "Here, let me show you."

Hermione gave the woman the stone and the diary.

"All you need to do is write an entry, it can be anything really, then say _atravanescet_ and rub the stone over everything you wrote. After that, you need to concentrate on the memory you wish to transfer, then tap your wand to your head and cast _calmoriae_. A pot of ink will appear next you. Use that to write your new entry. When you finish, blow on the ink. After that, you are done."

"Right," Hermione said uncertainly.

The Lady smiled encouragingly and conjured a desk for Hermione to write at. "Give it a try."

She followed the Lady's instructions perfectly, but was surprised when the ink that had appeared was a hazy bluish silver. She finished everything by blowing on the ink, as Marielle instructed. It all faded back to the original entry she wrote.

"That is incredible," Hermione breathed.

"If you think that is amazing, wait until you see what I show you next," she said smiling cheekily. "Follow me."

She did and after a few minutes walking through the grand hallways of the Avalon castle, they stopped at another set of grand doors, this time locked by a powerful magical seal. Marielle waved her hand, and the lock vanished, letting the doors creak open.

Inside, there were various artifacts dating back to the beginnings of magic itself. They seemed to be arranged in different categories based on their type. So, all wands were placed together in one section and all jewelry in another.

Hermione could hardly breath. The place was filled to the brim with ancient magic, and in the windowless, dim room, she could practically touch the mystery the room exuded.

"What is this place?" she couldn't help but ask, too timid to enter the room.

The older woman smiled. "This is the Chamber of Chosen Relics. It is a very special and important place," she whispered.

"Chamber of Chosen Relics…" Hermione utterd, not entirely aware of what she was saying.

"Please, step inside."

She did, and suddenly the room was bathed in a golden light, sconces on every wall watching fire. Underneath her feet was on ornate golden crest, winking ever so slightly.

Figures were appearing around the girl, and sitting in chairs Hermione hadn't noticed earlier.

"What is going on?" she asked.

A familiar witch answered. "This is a Choosing Ceremony. You are at a time in your quest, where you will need more support. There is an item in each of these categories that will aid you in your journey."

"Morgana?"

The sorceress nodded her head sharply. "Indeed."

Marielle directed the girl to the center of the crest. "Stand here, and connect with your inner magic."

"Why," she demanded.

"A relic will choose you. They are all ancient, you know, created by the most skilled craftsmen. In fact, some were even created by some of the Ladies here," the blonde witch replied.

"So everyone here is a Lady? Like what I read in that book?"

The woman smiled ruefully, "What do you think?"

Hermione did not deign to answer. Marielle's half-answer was confirmation enough.

The girl nodded her head, and shooed Marielle away. She closed her eyes and began combing the depths of her soul, searching for something she couldn't name. Sweat began to drip down her face; the salty liquid only served to make her focus more.

A sudden spark caught her attention. Chasing after it, Hermione reached an apple tree. Golden apples littered the tree, causing the branches to droop from their weight. Just as she plucked one of the delicious fruit, her consciousness returned, and she opened her eyes. Sitting in her hand, was an ornate scepter.

Gasps filled the room. Hushed 'it cannot be's' and 'remarkables' drifted through the air. Even Marielle and Morgana were sating at her in awe, if not with a bit of fear. Hermione wasn't paying any heed to that, though. The scepter held her attention captive.

It was long and thin with all manner of gems decorating every inch of the gold surface. A short distance from the top, a pearl the size of her fist bisected the staff. The scepter was oddly familiar to the witch.

"How enchanting," a new voice whispered in her ear. It was feminine and silky smooth, certain of every word that left her lips.

"I'm not sure I understand," Hermione said just as quietly, the other Ladies in the room still talking in the background.

"You wouldn't. It is alright, though. You still have much to learn."

Hermione pursed her lips. "So I have been told."

"Patience is a virtue, my dear Hermione. Knowledge will come as you require it," the woman said, moving to face the girl. "I am Imi, the first and last Lady to wield that scepter. Until now, that is."

"I would introduce myself, but I'm afraid that would be rather redundant, seeing as you already seem to know me," Hermione quipped.

The woman smirked. "It would seem so."

A moment of silence hung between the women. "I don't suppose you have any information for me? I did wait, afterall."

"Not much," Imi admitted, "but, I can tell you that the Scepter you now weild is more powerful than any wand could ever hope to be. Use it wisely. Hide it even more so."

Hermione arched an eyebrow. "How would you hide it? It doesn't seem too auspicious at the moment."

"All you need to do it throw it in the air. It will disappear. When you want it again, think of it, then be ready to catch," she said slyly.

She complied, glad she was able to catch it again when it reappeared. She suspected the Lady speaking to her wouldn't be all to pleased to see the golden scepter clattering on the ground.

"Thank you," Hermione intoned, somewhat wary of Imi's presence. She was regal and imposing, which made the elven year old a bit nervous.

Imi smirked, and with a final wink at the anxious Hermione, she disappeared in a shower of golden sparks.

The bookworm let out a sigh of relief, though she couldn't explain why.

Marielle becond for Hermione to follow her once again, this time out the door and toward the Lake.

"Hermione," the blonde began, "that scepter, it is very, very powerful."

"I know. I can feel the magic pulsating from it. It's running up and down my arm, making my whole body buzz," she explained.

Marielle looked troubled. "Look, I don't know how to explain this, but, you need to be cautious with it. Too much magic can corrupt you…"

Hermione turned to look sharply at her companion. "I will," she vowed solemnly.

"I- well, thank you…" Marille whispered.

They walked in silence for a time, neither wanting to break the understood calm of the moment.

Finally, Hermione said, "Could you tell me about Imi?"

The other woman gulped. "Only a little," she agreed. "There isn't much any of us Ladies know about Imi, but we do know one thing," she paused, trying to gather her though and breath. "She was the very first, and unlike the rest of us, she was the one who sought the Powers, not the other way around."

Hermione frowned. _What did that mean?_

"Why," she found herself asking. "Why did she seek the powers?"

"She has never told anyone, just that it was necessary."

"Thank you," Hermione muttered, lost in thought. They had reached the waterfront anyway, and it was time for the girl to return to the Academy.

"Hermione," Marielle exclaimed urgently, grabbing onto the girl's shoulder before she could dive into the clear waters, "Please, be careful with the scepter."

"I will."

The Lady nodded and watched Hermione swim to the bottom of the Lake. She hoped, for the sake of everyone, that the young Lady-in-Training would listen to her. That scepter was indeed powerful, but was also hard to control. For her to have received it so young… Marielle decided not to continue that train of thought, and instead stared at the spot Hermione had dived from mere moments earlier.

 **{A Tango of Taffeta}**

Back at Beauxbatons, Hermione was hurrying through the corridors and back to her Dormitory, hoping she wouldn't be caught by anybody. Harry's invisibility cloak would have been invaluable, had she thought to bring it with her to this time.

Luckily, she made it back with no disturbances, and went to bed without waking her dorm mates. She slid between the silky covers of her bed, and thought back to the scepter she had received that night. It clattered on her head. Disgruntled, she realised that there would be a learning curve to understanding the peculiar, yet oddly powerful object.

Sighing, she threw it in the air, watching it vanish. The girl turned in the covers, and let the waves of sleepiness she had been fighting wash over her. Her final thought before succumbing to sleep was Imi.

 **{A Tango of Taffeta}**

Congratulations for making it this far in the story! I have been quite long winded in everything that has been written so far, and I don't suspect that it will change anytime soon. As I am sure you can tell by now, this fic is going to be a long one. Hermione is still in her first year, and we are already seventeen chapter in (although, some chapters are barely six pages long in my documents). Thank You to everyone who has been faithfully reading so far. I appreciate each and every one of you, and welcome to the people who have just begun reading now! I hope my updates will become more frequent in the coming months, because I only have three more weeks until my summer holiday! I will be able to devote more of my time to writing this, which means more frequent updates!

Sincerely,

Miss of the Manor


	18. Taste of Tea

Marielle strode briskly down the hallways of Avalon's castle, her heels clicking with every step.

Her destination was the Chamber of Chosen Relics, where Morgana was waiting for her. After the rather… _eventful_ ceremony yesterday, both the witches were anxious to discuss the implications of the Scepter choosing Hermione.

A silky laugh sounded from the shadows of one of the many columns that lined the corridor.

She turned her head sharply toward it. "Imi," she said, gritting her teeth together. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

The woman smirked and stepped out of the shadows. "Marielle! I would return the niceties, but I have found them to be rather pointless when you don't really mean them."

Marielle sighed, "Tell me what you want."

"Oh," Imi gasped. "I don't want anything," she said examining her nails. "Rather, I believe there is something you want from me."

"Nothing. If that is all, I shan't keep you from more titillating activities," she said and strode down the hallway even further, light clicking following her.

"You might not know it yet, but there _is_ something you want from me," Imi muttered, staring at the space Marielle just vacated.

 **{Taste of Tea}**

"I cannot believe it is already the winter holidays," Amélie gasped at the table during breakfast, December 18, 1971. She, like most days, was sitting with Leon, Hermione, and Mathis, talking their ears off.

"Really, it just seems like yesterday we were at the Halloween Ball," she sighed. "But, oh," she exclaimed, perking up. "It just means that there will be at the very least two more balls to attend!"

Hermione bit back a groan. Ever since the last one, she wasn't too eager to attend another. Meeting an oddly young, and ever so charming dark lord really did put a damper on the festivities.

"I'm sure your family has something exciting planned, right Hermione," the talkative girl asked.

Hermione hummed. "I'm not actually too sure, but knowing my mother, she has something special ready." It wasn't a lie; Irène thoroughly enjoyed creating elaborate vacation plans.

"I do hope that my parents are taking me and Elias somewhere special this year! I have always wanted to see America…" she trailed off, losing herself in a fantasy.

"That would be incredible, Amélie! My family never does anything during the holidays," Leon complained.

The two continued their conversation, and Hermione turned to look at Mathis who had remained strangely quiet for the majority of the morning.

"What is wrong?" Hermione asked him quiet enough that the other two wouldn't overhear.

His eyes turned glassy. "Do you remember me telling you about my mother before the ball?"

She nodded her head.

"She is ill. Terminally."

The curly haired girl gasped quietly. "Mathis, that is terrible. I…"

"It's alright," he said, pulling together a watery smile. "She always was rather frail. It was bound to happen sometime.

Hermione patted his back empathetically. She could understand a little of what he was going through. It was always difficult to see Harry in pain, and he was like a brother to her.

"Can we go somewhere quiet for a minute?" he asked abruptly.

"Of course," she replied and excused them from the table. Amélie and Leon were far too engrossed in their conversation to care that the other two were leaving.

"Do you understand what it is like to see someone you love suffer," he questioned when they reached a secluded corner of the library.

Hermione winced at the heartbroken tone of his voice.

"Yes," she commented quietly.

"It's terrible," he said, sobs wracking his body, making him tremble in the window seat.

She didn't say anything. There wasn't much she could say anyway.

After a moment as asked, "Does it ever go away? The pain?"

She gulped back her emotions, trying to make her voice more firm than it was. "No. Never. You constantly feel the weight of knowing they are in pain, but also knowing that there is nothing you can do about it. Absolutely nothing. It makes you feel weak and powerless." Her voice trembled much like the boy sitting next to her.

He stopped crying and stared at her. "Who did you lose?"

"Excuse me?"

"Who did you lose," he asked again.

"I never mentioned that he died," she accused.

"You didn't need to."

She fell silent.

"My brother," she replied after a moment of hesitation.

He nodded. "I'm an only child, so I can't imagine losing a sibling, but it must be devastating."

"It was," she admitted, thinking back to the battle she fought only months before.

The two sat there for another fifteen minutes, thinking. They decided it was probably time to return to the dormitories and pack their belongings for the carriage ride tomorrow.

As Hermione was packing she thought back to her old life. A ghost of a smile passed over her lips. It felt so far removed from her at this point, that it was beyond absurd to think it was only months ago. It seemed like a _lifetime_ ago.

She shrugged it off. Her trunk needed packing, and doing it with magic never got it as organized ad the bookworm liked. The girl spent the rest of the day packing and fell asleep early that night.

 **{Taste of Tea}**

The next morning dawned quickly, and before Hermione knew it, she was saying goodbye to her friends and being ushered onto her carriage. Luckily, she and Amélie got to ride the same one and were able to sit next to each other.

"Let's sit in the front, next to the window…" the Swiss girl exclaimed, pulling Hermoine over to the seats she was referring to.

"Alright, alright, no need to tug!" she laughed back.

The girls settled down but were interrupted only moments later by a familiar looking boy.

"Elias," Amélie scowled, "What do you want?"

He threw his hand up in surrender to the fiery girl. "I only wanted to spend time with you! I promise," he pled.

Hermione was inclined to believe him. He seemed to be genuine if his facial expressions were anything to go by.

"Alright," the girl muttered.

His face brightened up.

"But- only if Hermione is alright with it," she added a second later.

The admittedly handsome boy glanced at her with pleading eyes.

"I have no problem with it, Lord Caspari," Hermione replied.

He flashed a brilliant grin at her. "Lovely! Thank you, Lady Lemercier," he supplied, kissing her hand. "And please, call me Elias."

"Hermione," she responded with a small smile.

The three students (or rather, Amélie) talked the entire way home.

Before she knew it, the carriage was dropping her off, and her parents were wrapping her up in a tight hug.

"Ma Fée! I have missed you! You must tell me everything!" Irène said.

"Oui, oui, maman, I promise," Hermione agreed, slightly out of breath from the hugs earlier.

Irène smiled indulgently, "Let's get back to the manor, non? We have much to do to get ready for the holidays."

The lady's bright smile drooped a little but was replaced just as quickly.

The family apparated home.

 **{Taste of Tea}**

"Hermione," Laurent said after dinner that night. "Your uncle has insisted we spend the holidays with him at Malfoy Manor."

Her face tightened as she looked away from the game of Wizards chess they were playing. "What," she breathed. "Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"We didn't know how to approach the subject,"

Hermione took a deep, calming breath. It wasn't worth it to get worked up about something like this. Yes, it would have been nice to know sooner, but it didn't matter now. The _past_ was in the _past_.

"When do we leave?"

"Tomorrow morning. Irène already has your bags packed."

She pressed her lips into a thin line, then moved her queen.

"Check-mate"

 **{Taste of Tea}**

As the next day dawned, Hermine sat at her writing desk, pouring over the journal she had been keeping about a certain Dark Lord. She mentally cursed and slammed the book shut. It was almost inevitable that _he_ would be there. The Malfoys would have no other reason to insist that they come over for the holidays.

She starting biting her fingernails and pacing the room, though she knew Irène would be less than pleased to see the jagged nails later that day.

"Why now?" she quietly asked herself.

"Yes, that is the question," a small, tinkling voice responded behind Hermione.

She turned and saw Aria grinning at her.

"What-"

"Shhh," the faerie hushed. "No one can know I am here. Least of all your new parents."

"Explain," Hermione demanded, crossing her arms and tapping her foot.

"No need to get all huffy," she said and rolled her eyes. "Besides, your soul was practically begging me to come here."

"My soul?" Hermione asked, bewildered.

"The little creature nodded. "Yes. Faerie magic."

"Right," she said, still uncertain. "How do you remember who I am?"

Aria giggled. "Marielle accounts for everything."

"Figures."

The two stood there in awkward silence, both waiting for the other to respond.

"You've been to Avalon," the impish creature commented.

Hermione found herself nodding. "Yes, how could you tell?"

The faerie hesitated. "There is powerful magic lurking around your aura. I'm guessing you have already received your relic?"

"You seem to know a lot for a faerie who has avoided humans for hundreds of years."

Aria scowled and crossed her arms. "Marielle accounts for _everything_."

"Wonderful," Hermione said, a little shortly. It was nice to see the little creature again, but Merlin, she was already more than annoyed with the half-answers Aria was giving her.

"Listen," the faerie sighed, uncrossing her arms, "I'm sorry I can't tell you more. It would make some… displeased. But enough of that, What is bothering you?"

Hermione slumped into a chaise. "What isn't bothering me?"

"You know what I meant."

"You're correct, but what I said is true. I feel like there is always a cloud of worry hanging over me. Currently, though, the Malfoys. They are insisting that we go to their manor for the holiday."

Aria frowned. "What is wrong with them? Are they not your relatives?"

"They are, and that's the problem."

The faerie pressed her lips together in a fine line.

"I-" but she was cut off by a knock on the door.

"Hermione darling," Irène called, "Can I come in? We are leaving soon."

Hermione glanced at Aria in worry.

"Be careful," the creature hissed, then disappeared in a shower of golden light.

With a sigh of relief, Hermione opened the door allowing her adoptive mother to enter the room.

"You look lovely," the woman said, running a hand over Hermione's hair. "Let's get your trunk down to the sitting room, we need to get to the ministry soon if we don't want to wait for our portkey!"

Hermione snorted internally. She doubted the ministry workers would make the Lemercier family wait for anything, lest of all an international portkey.

Nonetheless, Irène levitated the heavy trunk down to the main floor and joined Laurent in apparating to the ministry.

The Lemerciers were rushed through the department and in a short thirty minutes they were going through customs in London.

"Lord Lemercier," Abraxas said, bowing slightly at the man, "I am glad that you could join us this winter."

Laurent returned the bow. "Me as well, Lord Malfoy."

While the to older men were talking, Lucius appeared behind Hermione and struck up a conversation.

"Cousin," he said, bowing to her absurdly deep.

Hermione curtsied back, equally low, giggling a bit. "Lucius! It's good to see you again."

"I agree. You've no idea how intolerable it is being around imbeciles for so long. If only you attended Hogwarts."

Hermione's voice caught in her throat. "I'm sorry?"

"Hmm?" he asked, glancing at her. "I was merely pointing out that Hogwarts is full of idiots who can barely write their names, let alone cast a simple _Wingardium Leviosa_. Actually, it is probably best you stay at Beauxbatons for that reason."

She tuned out the boy who continued talking about nonsense and only nodded at appropriate times to make it look like she was paying attention. Honestly, Lucius was such a gossiper. She smirked slightly. _She could use that to her advantage later on._

Hermione shook her head slightly. _Where did that thought come from?_

"-listening?" he asked, looking at her expectantly.

"Sorry, what?" she said, focusing her attention on the blonde.

He sighed deeply. "Apparently not. What do you have on your mind."

"Nothing!" she promised.

He stared at her, incredulous. "Yes, I will believe that when Gryffindors stop worshipping bravery."

She glared at him.

"Come along, Hermione, Lucius. The Manor is waiting for us," Irène said in a falsely sweet voice.

They both nodded and got ready to apparate. Moments later, the gorgeous hues of the Malfoy Manor gardens greeted them. Before Hermione had any time to admire them further, a house elf escorted her to her rooms.

She did a quick examination of the chamber and found several great places to hide things, like journals she didn't want Voldemort to get his hands on. Or any of his underlings, for that matter.

She decided to place her _sensitive_ items behind a loose stone in the walls. Then, she proceeded to ward it like nothing she had ever warded before. Minutes later, she was wiping sweat off her brow and smiling in satisfaction. No one was getting in there anytime soon. Now she just had to hope that _he_ wouldn't notice the heavy enchantments that percolated that area of the wall.

A house elf appeared and led her down to a sitting room, where Lucius was waiting.

"Cousin, I have some friends coming over in just under an hour. I thought it would be prudent to inform you," he said.

She smiled hesitantly. "Thank you…"

"You are welcome to join us. In fact, I'm certain you and Cissy will get along."

Hermione blanched internally. She certainly did not want to spend any amount of time Narcissa, however, she could not formulate a single reasonable excuse to not be there, so an hour later, she found herself sitting in a hard chair, surrounded by the same people that wanted her dead only months ago.

"So Lady Lemercier, I understand you are currently attending Beauxbatons?" Theodophilus Nott asked.

"Oui," Hermione answered, smiling tightly at the man. His son was a spitting image of him, and it was putting Hermione on edge.

"That is fascinating," Narcissa exclaimed. "My mother has always spoken highly of the witches that graduate there. If she had her way, I would have gone there as well!"

Hermione only smiled in return, not entirely certain how to respond to her enthusiasm.

"Surely Hogwarts would be better? It is closer to your cousin, after all," Rabastan Lestrange interjected.

Lucius decided to take the conversation into his own hands. "It is an old Malfoy tradition to send the witches of the family to Beauxbatons, though my father is currently trying to persuade Lord Lemercier to send her to Hogwarts."

Hermione flashed him a grateful smile. His 'friends' were really starting to get on her nerves.

Narcissa grinned, "It would be splendid to see you attend Hogwarts. There is a rather _distinct_ shortage of acceptable witches."

Everyone in the group nodded in assent.

Hermione tried her best not to snort.

The hour passed slowly. Hermione would know, she spent it all staring at the grandfather clock that sat in the corner of the room. Apparently, she was good at feigning interest in their insipid conversations, because they didn't seem to be too offended that she wasn't contributing to the conversation at all. At some point, another house elf brought in tea which Hermione took gratefully. It broke up the monotony of just staring at the clock.

Eventually, all of Lucius's 'friends' (though they seemed to be more like convenient acquaintances than anything else) went home, which left the two alone.

"Father had been very insistent with your father that you attend Hogwarts, you know," he said after taking a sip of his tea.

She sighed. "I had figured as much."

He arched his perfectly manicured eyebrow.

Noticing the look he was giving her, she said, "Uncle is the type to be persistent when he wants something. Though, why he wants me at Hogwarts, I haven't the slightest."

Lucius laughed. "You really don't know?"

She looked at him sharply. "What do you mean?"

"The reason Lady Iréne was cut out from the family for so long is because she married Lord Lemercier."

Hermione was affronted. "My father is the most elite pureblood in all of France. Why would that displease the family?"

"He was not someone Grandfather could manipulate," he said simply and took another sip of his tea.

"While I would love to discuss that further, what does any of that have to do with why Uncle wants me to attend Hogwarts?" Hermione questioned.

"What do you think?"

Hermione thought for a second. "He wants to form an alliance with a family here. A family he could subdue through his relationship with me," she speculated. "It would further his power in the Wizengamont," she realized, a second later.

"Perhaps," Lucius said, smiling slightly.

Hermione frowned into her teacup, gazing at her reflection in the steaming liquid.

"And what do you think of all of this?" she asked after a moment had passed.

He set his teacup back on its saucer and crossed his arms. "It is not my place to question my father's judgment."

She shook her head. "No, this isn't about Abraxas," she said, forgoing the use of a title. "This is about a certain mutual acquaintance of ours."

He gazed at her sharply, but appreciatively. "If only my schoolmates were as perceptive as you."

Hermione smirked.

"I believe _he_ is of the opinion that you should stay in France a while longer yet," he murmured under his breath, so quiet that she could barely hear him.

"Thank you," she whispered back.

It was a dangerous exchange, she knew. Voldemort was likely in the Manor, and if he had overheard what they were discussing, there would be consequences.

The two continued to drink their tea in silence.

"Lady Lemercier," Abraxas called, nearly an hour later, from the doorway. "There is a _guest_ that requests your presence."

"Of course," she said, plastering on a fake smile.

Lucius eyed her worriedly but said nothing. The only indication he gave to comfort her, was a slight inclination of his head.

Abraxas led her down the many twisting corridors of Malfoy Manor to a grand room.

"Lord Riddle," Hermione said, curtsying deeply. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Leave us," he commanded, looking at Abraxas.

The man bowed and closed the doors behind him as he left.

She controlled every muscle in her body from flinching at the sound of the door _clicking_ closed, leaving the two of them alone.

"Please, come sit," he said gesturing at an armchair across from him.

Hermione nodded and followed his directions.

"Lady Lemercier," he began, looking at her with an emotion Hermione couldn't quite place. "You remind me of someone."

"Oh," she asked, her heart racing unpleasantly.

"Indeed."

"If I may," she asked hesitantly, "Who is it?"

He smirked. "You may. It is myself."

She gagged internally. "My Lord?"

"You may speak," he replied.

Was he really going to make her say it? She glanced at him, and yes, he was indeed going to make her ask why.

"In what ways?"

He grinned, "You will never be satiated. Never."

"I'm not certain what you mean?" she questioned meekly.

"Oh, but my dearest Lady Hermione, you do. I can see it in your eyes. You crave knowledge."

Her eyes flashed to his but looked away quickly. She didn't want him taking any uninvited visits to her mind.

He laughed silkily then. "No need to worry, my Lady. I shall not invade your mind today."

His statement didn't make Hermione feel any more relieved. "Today?" she repeated.

"I have a proposition," he said, ignoring her question.

"Continue," she said, hating the direction this conversation was taking, not that she particularly enjoyed it in the first place.

"You will be my student. I will teach you everything I know, even make you my trusted advisor."

"And in return?" Hermione asked boldly.

He smirked. "Clever girl. A favor. You shall owe me a single favor."

Hermione's mind was racing. She did not want to be his student or his advisor. She didn't even want to be in his presence.

Before she could restrain herself, she said, "Monsieur, after our last meeting, you spiked my interest. Why is it that my family library contains no mention of a 'Lord Riddle'?"

Rather than be furious as Hermione suspected he would be, he laughed. "We are cut from the same tree, I would have done the same."

 _Even if we were cut from the same tree, there is a clear difference in what part of the tree each of us stem from._

"I do not wish to use my actual title of 'Lord Gaunt'. I'm afraid it would simply garner too much interest. However, in private, many call me Lord Voldemort."

"The last Gaunt was Morfin, who died incarcerated in Azkaban years ago. By the looks of your age, you cannot have been born more than 30 years ago. Are you implying you are his decendent?"

Hermione knew she was playing with fire. It was a dangerous game she starting.

"You know your pureblood history well, too. No," he said, "I am not a son of Morfin, nor a grandson. My mother was Merope, and my father, well, he is unimportant. I am the sole heir of Gaunt, of Slytherin."

"Why are you telling me this?" Hermione asked, continuing her streak of reckless decisions.

"You asked."

"Yes, but you never had to answer. Why did you?"

"You asked, Lady Lemercier, and who am I to keep a curious Lady wondering?"

Hermione bit her tongue from saying more. She was in a different time, in a different place, as a different person. She could _not_ act like this here.

"Forgive me, my Lord, I have overstepped my place," she said meekly.

"Never apologise for your desire of knowledge. Others might not appreciate it, but I treasure it dearly."

 _What?_ This was not at all how Hermione pictured this conversation going. She was expecting to do some minor groveling and niceties. But not this.

" _Hermione_ ," he said gently and lifted her downcast face. "All you need to do is say yes."

She was petrified. He was gazing deeply into her eyes, expecting her answer.

" _Yes_ ," she whispered.

He grinned in triumph, and his own orbs flashed a brilliant scarlet.

 **{Taste of Tea}**

Here it is, another chapter! Something I would like to address is the age of Voldemort. I am well aware of the fact that he should be older. He technically is, he just doesn't look it, not right now. I will reveal more about it later on because it is a major plot point, but for now, I thought it would be a good idea to clear up any misunderstandings that might have arose from his age. Also, I know that this is a bit of a shorter chapter than what I have been posting lately and I am sorry, but I felt as though this would be the best place to leave it off. Thank you all for reading!

Sincerely,

Miss of the Manor


	19. Kaleidoscope of Colors

Later that night, Hermione was sitting in the absurdly large tub that was hidden behind one of the many doors in her rooms at Malfoy Manor. The conversation with Voldemort finished rather quickly as soon as she agreed to be his student. In fact, he had dismissed her almost immediately after.

It was odd, she thought, that the man she helped to kill, and was plotting to kill again, wanted to make her his student. Protogée. Fate was funny that way.

Her primary concern was not necessarily learning the magic he was going to teach her. No, she likely already knew it. It was going to be trying to hide her battle-hardened reflexes that had not faded in the slightest since the war. And concealing her unusually large amount of knowledge concerning him.

She could really go for a nice stroll through a library right now, but she definitely did not want _him_ knowing about the things she was reading and studying. Tomorrow she would go to the library and read books that she was certain would please him. Doubtlessly, it would get back to him.

At the moment, Hermione was in a precarious and dangerous position, but she was also in a prime position to spy on dear old Voldy.

She smirked as she played with the bubbles that drifted through the tub. Sure, being chummy with a mass murdering psychopath wasn't going to be pleasant, but she sure was in the perfect position to manipulate him.

She giggled at that thought. _She_ , _a mudblood_ , was manipulating _Lord Voldemort_. How ludicrous. Yet oh so delightful.

Her thoughts turned more serious. There was also drama in Avalon. Before she left, she noticed an undercurrent of worry coming from both Marielle and Morgana regarding the Scepter. _And regarding Imi_.

Neither made much sense. Though, things regarding the Ladyship never really did make much sense.

The Scepter was the first problem. It was powerful, and that seemed to cause Marielle concern. Why, though, Hermione couldn't place and she doubted the woman would tell her anything. If Hermione just knew how to use it…

"Ouch!" she grumbled when the aforementioned object landed on her head.

She was about ready to toss it in the air when she noticed something glimmering on it. She moved it closer to her face to inspect it further. It was one of the jewels, sparkling in the most delightful ways.

"How curious," she said, rubbing the little stone.

That was the last thing she was able to say before she was surrounded by a familiar golden light. A second later she was standing in Avalon, sopping wet, and very naked.

"Isn't this just charming," a silk voice drawled from the shadows. "A nude Lady standing in the corridors. Why I haven't seen this level of decorum since my days!"

Imi stepped out from behind a pillar and smirked at Hermione.

She scowled in return. "It is lovely to see you again as well, Imi. I don't suppose telling me where to find a towel and clothing is against the rules as well?"

The woman shrugged. "Technically, there isn't anything like that here, though need I remind you that you are an incredibly powerful witch?"

Hermione grimaced. "I have not wasted my time on such useless ventures as learning the subtle art of transfiguring clothing."

"Lesson number one," Imi tutted, "is that anything you wish for can be realized by that scepter. Give it a shot."

"Why are you telling me this? Wasn't it all very taboo only a moment ago?"

"I never was one for rules," the ethereal Lady said, inspecting her cuticles. "Are you not going to dress? As much as this is a good look for you, I'm pretty certain Marielle would have a fit if she saw you."

Rather than replying, Hermione concentrated on imagining a flowy dress and to be dry. Amazingly, only a second later, she was dry and had a flowy dress caressing her body.

Imi looked at her approvingly. "Precisely. Now, if you would like to learn more, follow me. We can't have anyone interrupting."

"You will have three visitors soon," Imi said the moment she felt they were in a secure location. "This will be a very critical moment in your career as a Lady. The best advice I can give you is to follow your instincts."

"Who are these 'visitors'?" Hermione asked.

"Possibilities. Reflections. They are everything, and yet they are also nothing."

Hermione nearly screamed at the vague half-answer the woman gave her.

"Save us both the time your temper tantrum would take. You have more questions for me. Ask."

Hermione took a deep, calming, breath. "Why does Marielle, and even Morgana seem wary of you?"

Imi smiled. "That, I believe is a multi-faceted question and one that begins in my past. Shall we take a jaunt through my memories?" She asked, gesturing at a door Hermione had not seen before.

Hermione nodded her head and followed Imi through the door into a sandy desert.

"This was my home long ago."

The desert was rather barren though in the distance Hermione could just make out the outline of a city.

"Come."

The two females walked just above the sand to the small blip in the distance. As it loomed nearer, Hermione was confronted not by a little village like she was expecting, but rather a booming metropolis.

"This-this is amazing!" Hermione laughed gazing at the flurry of activity in the city streets.

Imi smiled, genuinely, though the faintest flicker of despair danced across her eyes. "Yes, it once was," she whispered.

Hermione didn't seem to hear, too entranced was she by the gorgeous metropolis. "You grew up here?"

"In a sense," she replied. "Follow me. I will show you where I grew up."

Hermione complied, all too content to see the sprawling area before her.

It was a bustling city, vendors were selling, people buying. It was also very loud, Hermione noted when she had one of the aforementioned sellers yell directly into her ear. The marketplace was very colorful; swaths of brightly dyed fabrics hung between buildings casting shade from the oppressive sun.

Eventually, it became clear that they were heading in the direction of the large palace structure at the very opposite edge of the city. It loomed high in the sky, the architecture reminding her of a trip she took to Morocco when she was younger.

As they drew even closer to the building, Hermione's nose was assaulted with the smell of salt.

"We are near the sea?" she asked, confused.

"Indeed."

Imi sounded rather grim, so Hermione refrained from asking more questions.

The pair stopped next to the grandiose structure that Imi confirmed was a palace. The edifice they were standing in front of now was no less ornate than the imposing royal residence beside it.

"This was my home for most of my early life," Imi said.

"What is this place?"

She smiled sadly, "It is the crown jewel of my people- the Temple of the High Priestess." She paused for a moment before gesturing Hermione to follow her. "Come inside."

Hermione followed Imi through the twisting corridors of the lavish building, pointing out several areas of distinct importance. Occasionally, a worker of the Temple would pass by the women, off to some destination she could only guess. Imi stopped at a large, open window. There was a faint breeze blowing through it, carrying the scent of the sea, which was just below them.

"This place is very beautiful," Hermione commented.

Imi smiled genuinely. "It is. The Emperor always made certain the Temple was in good repair."

The two stared out the window in silence for a few more moments.

"Why are you showing me this place?"

"This is where it all began," Imi said vaguely.

"But what do you mean by that," Hermione exclaimed, very frustrated by the lack of answers.

The woman sighed. "There is one more person you must meet before I can reveal that to you. She should be stopping by here at any moment."

Just then, Hermione's attention was torn to a girl, who was sixteen at best stomping down the corridor.

"My Lady," another voice, male, shouted desperately. "Please!"

"What!" the girl growled, turning to glower at the portly man running after her.

"You must do it!" he said, wringing his hands together. He was sweating profusely, making they heavy white robes he wore stick to his body.

She glared at the man fiercely. "I will not," she said, placing her hands on her hips. "And before you suggest it, I will not go see the elders, either."

"But-" the desperate man was cut off.

"My Lady! Your behavior is unbecoming of a High Priestess. Control yourself," a second, much thinner and wizened man, said sharply.

She only jutted her chin out in defiance.

The portly man fell to his knees, bowing to the man. "Elder Priest!"

The man ignored the pleas of the other man and continued to berate the girl. "You are to have a meeting with me and the others in mere minutes and yet you are still cavorting around the Temple with careless abandon."

"Yes," was all she replied.

The man rubbed his face. "I suppose if you are unwilling to come of your own volition, it falls on me to ensure you get to the meeting," he said and surged forward, grabbing the girl's wrist in a tight grip and dragged her off.

Imi looked on at the scene gravely and pushed Hermione forward slightly to follow the old man and girl.

The girl continued to struggle and try and get away from the man, but despite his age, he would not budge and continued pulling her through the corridors of the Temple towards its very heart. He pushed her through a massive set of golden doors, which shut promptly behind them.

Imi only walked through them and indicated that Hermione should do the same.

Inside the chamber, it was very dark, illuminated by the glow of a large pyre that burned at the very back of the room. Four figures sat in front of it and was joined by the wizened man a second later.

The girl was lying in the center of the room, having been thrown there a moment earlier.

"High Priestess, the eve of your sixteenth birthday is nigh. It is time you take on your responsibilities," the man in the center said.

"No," she said evenly. "No, I will not."

The set of men shook their heads at the girl. "That is not for you to decide. We shall excuse you for the rest of the day to prepare for your training tomorrow. Good day, Princess."

The girl huffed and brushed a single tear away from her cheek, before standing up and walking out of the room with as much pride as she could manage.

"Princess? I thought she was the High Priestess,?" Hermione asked as she and Imi followed the girl through a series of underground tunnels that led back to the castle.

"Here, they are one and the same. The moment the very first princess of every Emperor is born, she is declared the High Priestess. It is a great honor, even greater than being the Emperor."

"She doesn't seem too pleased for it to be a great honor," Hermione commented, thinking back to the rebellious actions of the girl.

"No, she doesn't, does she?" Imi said, smiling strangely.

Once the girl her destination, she fell onto the bed and sobbed.

"It isn't fair," she whispered into the rich silks.

The girl's head shot up when a knock on the door echoed through the room.

"My Lady?" a masculine voice called through the door.

The princess stood up and straightened out her rumpled white robes. "Come in," she sighed. "You really don't need to call me 'my Lady'," she said when the teenage boy entered the room.

The two looked rather similar, Hermione thought briefly.

He mock bowed, much in the way Lucius did with Hermione. "How could I not," he said pompously. "You are the magnificent Princess of the country."

She giggled, but her laughter didn't last long and was replaced by a somber expression. "I have met with the Elders. I am to begin my High Priestess duties on the morrow."

The boys face immediately turned downcast. "No," he whispered. "That can't be!"

She smiled sadly.

"But, you aren't even sixteen yet. Surely-"

She held up a hand. "Karim, I have put it off long enough. It was inevitable that this would happen."

"But you are my baby sister, I can't just let you-"

"You have to!" she shouted. "If you don't people will die."

He scoffed. "You don't know that! It is just something the Elders tell you to make you feel guilty."

The girl shook her head. "Brother, I don't like this any more than you do, but it is true. If I don't do my duty people _will_ die. It isn't an if, it is a when."

"How can you know that?"

"It's hard to explain," she said crossing the room toward him. "I just know it."

He scowled at her. "You aren't doing a great job of assuaging my fears. It sounds like the elders have gotten to you."

She hugged him. "Please. Just- just trust me."

He hugged her back tightly. "Okay," he whispered.

"Imi," Hermione asked. "What is going on? Why is that boy so concerned for her?"

"She is about to take on the most important duty of the entire nation, if not the world and he is her brother. Why shouldn't he be concerned?" Imi said easily.

"There is something else going on that I don't know."

Imi stayed silent as the scene around them shifted. They were still in the princess's room, however, she was nowhere to be seen.

"Follow me."

They walked through the palace and out a large commons space in the courtyard. Thousands were gathered, each wearing bright scarlet robes. Imi glided through the crowd and to top of a set of stairs, where a platform held a large golden box. There were two people standing next to it, and five behind it. Hermione recognized the Princess and the Elders, and what she assumed to be the Emperor.

Gradually, every person in the crowd bowed, and the golden box was set aflame. The congregation filtered out, leaving only the people on the platform there. The Princess gazed into the flames. She was the only one still wearing white, though she clutched a red scrap of fabric to her chest.

One of the Elders spoke. "This was all brought on by you, my Lady."

The girl tore her eyes from the orange fire and looked at the Elder, crying.

"Perhaps you will take your duties more seriously," he said sadly and followed everyone back into the palace, leaving the girl alone.

She fell to her knees. "I am so sorry, Karim. I am so sorry," she sobbed.

Hermione's blood turned to ice. "Imi," she said, fearfully, "What happened to Karim?"

"The High Priestess did not do her duty. Karim paid the price," Imi said. The older woman was standing very stiffy, gazing at the fire just like the Princess who still sat there crying.

"They killed him?" Hermione whispered, horrified.

"No. It was her."

"Explain."

Imi looked at Hermione, who was standing tall, her hands placed stubbornly on her hips.

"That girl," she said eventually, "she is the very first."

Hermione gasped, comprehension flooding her face. "Then, that is…"

Imi nodded stiffly.

The scene changed again, though this time it was late and inky blackness covered the courtyard. A small flame illuminated the figure of the slightly older Princess. She stopped in the center of the platform and threw the flame in the sky. It separated into several smaller balls, illuminating a symbol on the ground.

The Princess took a familiar golden scepter and jabbed it in the center of the engraving. Like clockwork, the symbol disappeared and a set of stairs leading downward appeared. The girl hurried down them, not looking back even once.

Hermione and Imi trailed her and stopped in a humble room. It was small, and entirely plain rock. In the center, there was a small altar.

Above them, the stairs disappeared, and the room was cast in a faint golden glow. The young Princess began chanting and the glow became brighter and brighter. When she stopped, three figures revealed themselves to the girl.

Hermione gasped quietly. They were the same people that she had seen in the grotto. The people that gave her the 'gifts' before she came back in time.

"Powers that Be," she said boldly, standing proud. "I wish to make a deal, as the High Priestess."

"Very well," the opulent man and beautiful girl said. The one in the middle stayed decidedly silent.

"The first time a princess is born to a new emperor, she is cursed to become the High Priestess and eventually sacrifice herself in the name of keeping balance and to protect the people from magic. She gives her life for her people."

Hermione was stunned. "The Elders- they were going to kill her?"

Imi nodded gravely.

"I will stand for this system no longer. Rather than killing the High Priestess, let her serve you for the rest of her days. Imbue in her, in me, the power to control fate and ensure balance!"

"Is this truly what you want? Even if there is a price to pay?" the man dressed lavishly said.

"Yes," the Princess confirmed.

"Even if that price if the life of your father?" the pure girl asked.

The girl hesitated but eventually said, "Yes."

"Very well, it is done." the final spirit, that is neither a male or female said.

The Princess bowed and watched the spirits disappear.

Hermione watched as she too faded and she and Imi returned to Avalon.

"I was so very short-sighted then. I never imagined things would come to this…" Imi whispered.

"What do you mean," Hermione probed.

"Things only became more complex after that. I had to ascend the throne- my father was dead, just as the powers said he would be. So were the Elders. Everything was running smoothly for a time, but rumors reached my ears that some of my people were performing magic."

"Why is that a bad thing?"

Imi shook her head. "You don't understand. The whole purpose of sacrificing the High Priestess was to ensure that the people wouldn't be inflicted with magic. Those that were- they went mad."

"But magic isn't like that," Hermione protested.

"Not anymore, no. At the time, it was very distressing. More and more problems arose. Eventually, everything fell. The kingdom I had worked so hard to protect-" the woman stuttered. "It fell. Everyone moved to separate corners of the globe. I died and with me, so did my nation."

"That's horrible."

"Yes, but it got worse. When I died, I appeared here, in this world, though the castle did not exist yet. With no daughter to continue the role of High Priestess, one girl every generation was cursed by my short-sightedness. They had to uphold the promise I made with the fates."

"I am one of those girls," Hermione realized. "I am the one that is to uphold the promise you made."

Imi nodded. "I have done everything in power to make it easier for each Lady. The creation of the relics to guide each Lady on their journey, and other things which will be revealed to you in due time."

"You have done everything but make information readily available," Hermione snapped. She was still rather annoyed at the lack of information, especially earlier on.

"The Powers will not allow it."

"Oh," Hermione responded, feeling chastised.

"The only reason I can tell you any of this is because that scepter chose you," she said, pointing at the golden relic in Hermione's grip.

"What is the price I am going to have to pay?"

Imi sighed heavily, her shoulders drooping. "It is hard to say. Only the Powers can decide."

Hermione fell silent, mulling over the information Imi gave to her. It seemed so very… archaic.

"Imi," Hermione said hesitantly, "You still haven't explained why Marielle and Morgana don't trust you."

"You are the only one that knows of the origins of the Lady other than myself, though their primary concern likely comes from the Scepter."

Hermione looked at the beautiful object in her hands. "And why might that be?" she asked, still gazing at the glittering rod.

"The magic that is imbued within it is highly volatile and very ancient. It had been subtly changing you."

"What?" Hermione spat, tearing her gaze away from the offending object.

Imi nodded. "It did the same to me."

"How?"

"You have become less frightened of things that would have terrified you before. You are also more cunning and are able to push aside any preexisting morals you might have carried to achieve your goal. Essentially, your conceptions of right and wrong are much more fluid and ambiguous."

Hermione shook her head, suddenly dizzy and very alarmed. "That can't be!"

Imi shook her head sadly. "I'm afraid it is."

"I- I have to go," Hermione stuttered and rubbed the same shiny stone that transported her to Avalon. She was gone in a spark of golden light.

Imi sighed, looking at the spot the young girl had just been in. "She is the hope of our future."

"Our only hope," Marielle's calm voice echoed.

Imi rounded on the other woman. "What are you doing here?"

"Following you," the blonde huffed, crossing her arms across her chest.

"I would never hurt her."

"Maybe not," Marielle agreed.

"We have been waiting for her for millennia. The Scepter choosing her is a manifestation of the Prophecy coming to fruition," Imi stated gravely.

"We can only hope."

 **{Kaleidoscope of Colors}**

Hermione landed in her now tepid bath with a resounding splash, the Scepter still in her hand, and the flowy dress still hugging her body.

"Of course," Hermione grumbled.

She quickly vanished the clothing and threw the troublesome Scepter in the air. She really did need to learn how to control it better.

She finished her bath and slipped in her bed, positive she had been gone for far too long, and ready to let the welcoming arms of sleep overtake her.

 **{Kaleidoscope of Colors}**

Thank you to everyone who has read this far, I really hope you are enjoying the story so far! I have decided to permanently have shorter chapters (between 3000-5000 words) because I feel that it is a better length for my writing style. If you have any questions please feel free to ask, I will try to answer everything to the best of my ability in the next chapter's author's note.

Sincerely,

Miss of the Manor


	20. Murder at the Lachance Estate

Christmas arrived and departed quietly and it was time for the Malfoy's annual News Years Ball. Hermione, much to her utter delight, did not have to partake in the planning for it. No, it was dear old Voldy that saved her from that duty; he simply had far better things to occupy her time, such as learning to cast a powerful _Crucio_. Delightful.

Between her lessons with Voldemort, she found herself in the company of Lucius and his entourage, who seemed to lurk around the Manor at every possible moment.

She didn't really mind being around them, though, as the Lady Malfoy was rather frantic trying to get every last detail of the Ball in place before it actually began. The only bothersome part about being around Lucius and his 'friends' is that Narcissa would not stop insisting that Hermione attend Hogwarts next term.

C'est la vie, she supposed.

"Miss Lemercier, shall we discuss _Magick Moste Evile_?" Voldemort asked, walking to the table that Hermione was occupying in the Malfoy Library.

"Certainly, my Lord," she replied, feigning a polite smile. It simply wouldn't do if he thought she was anything but devoted to him.

They discussed theory for hours, or rather, Voldemort did, and Hermione took avid notes. Not because she actually intended to use any of the magic, but because it gave her valuable insights about the inner workings of Voldemort. He let her go at three, knowing that Madame Malfoy and Irène wanted to get her ready for the ball that night.

Irène took care of Hermione's robes long ago and was excited to show her adopted daughter the gorgeous champagne robes she had tailored.

"It's lovely," Hermione agreed when she saw the delicate garment that she would be wearing that night. Unfortunately, it looked to be rather uncomfortable.

She winced upon the realization that she was right. The robes were flattering but at the cost of Hermione's comfort.

The two older women cooed at the girl and sent her down to the ballroom to welcome guests with Lucius.

I was rather dull, she realised quickly. At the very least, she wouldn't have to go and talk with Narcissa immediately. She didn't know how much longer she could handle the girl.

When the Blacks arrived, Lord Malfoy and Lady Malfoy relieved her and Lucius of their positions greeting people and sent them off to socialise with the other guests. Lucius directed her over to Walburga who was eyeing Hermione rather intensely.

"Lord Black, Lady Black," Hermione said, curtsying to them. They both returned her greeting.

"Lady Lemercier, it is quite refreshing to see you again," Walburga commented with a delicate sniff and slight smile.

Hermione blanched internally. She certainly did _not_ want Walburga happy to see her.

"You as well, Lady Black, I trust your house is well?" Hermione replied in a thick French accent.

It was rather peculiar, Hermione noticed, that she didn't need to force an accent anymore. In fact, it was rather difficult to switch back to her normal English cadence.

Walburga's smile morphed into a grimace. "Yes," she said tightly. "Regulus is well advanced in his studies. He shall be the top of his year when he goes to Hogwarts, I expect."

Hermione desperately wanted to ask the older witch about Sirius, though she thought better of it and refrained from doing so.

A small smirk graced the matron's lips a moment later. "In fact, I'm certain that he would love the opportunity to tell you more," she said. "Regulus! Why don't you take Lady Lemercier four a spin around the room?"

"Of course, mother," the ever obedient Regulus replied, and offered Hermione his hand. "It would be an honour, Lady Lemercier."

Hermione smiled tightly at the young boy, "The honour is all mine."

As the two danced, they talked mainly about school, as Regulus was especially curious about Beauxbatons, and Hermione was more than happy to supply him information. He was frantic to attend Hogwarts, she learned, though that was rather obvious in the first place.

"Regulus," Hermione asked cautiously after their conversation lulled, "How is Sirius doing?"

The boy stiffened and glanced over Hermione's shoulder at Walburga, who was eyeing the pair with an approving gleam in her eyes. "He is doing alright enough, I suppose, though Mother hasn't spoken of him since he was sorted into Gryffindor."

Hermione pressed her lips together. She had thought that might be the case.

"Thank you," she said when the song ended and he escorted her back to Lucius.

"It was my pleasure," he replied, bowing at her.

She returned the pleasantries and allowed her cousin to drag her off to his friends who were all sitting at a table in the corner of the ballroom. She groaned when Narcissa waved her over.

"You look absolutely delightful, my dear," she gushed.

"Not nearly as stunning as you," Hermione replied out of necessity, causing Narcissa to go off on a tangent about her robes. Using the guise of paying attention to the girl, Hermione listened to the conversation of some older wizards to their right.

"He is powerful and intelligent. Should he run for minister, he would have the support of my House," one man said.

The other men nodded in assent.

"But gentlemen, he aims to achieve much more than what the ministry can do for him," another added.

"You cannot possibly be implying-,"

"I am. His power is no joke, my friends."

The men seemed to consider what he said.

"Nonetheless, this is not the place to discuss this," one finally replied.

The men laughed and moved onto more trivial topics of discussion.

This was bad, Hermione thought. If Voldemort already had this kind of support, it would be difficult for her to usurp the trust of the purebloods.

"-ione!"

"Yes, Narcissa?" Hermione responded.

She huffed. "How many times need I remind you? Call me Cissy."

"Yes alright," she laughed when she saw the effronted heiress glaring at her.

"Honestly, I'm starting to think that Lucius is right about you."

"You are going to have to elaborate."

"You never listen," she said pointedly.

Hermione tried to protest but Narcissa's intimidating glower shut her up.

"I'm sorry?" Hermione offered half-heartedly.

The other girl rolled her eyes and continued talking about dress robes.

Unfortunately for Hermione, that is how she spent the rest of her night- with Narcissa- excuse her- Cissy talking her ears off.

 **{Murder at the Lachance Estate}**

It was the last day of Hermione's stay at Malfoy Manor and she was trying her best to seem at least a little glum. Narcissa was lamenting to anyone who would listen that the only other acceptable female her age was leaving and that they wouldn't see each other until summer.

Hermione, on the other hand, couldn't be more thrilled. She was going back to France and away from all the madness that tended to congregate around Voldemort and his cronies.

After a tearful goodbye from Narcissa and a curt nod from Lucius, the Lemerciers were on their way back to their Chateau.

It was January fifth, and Irène was anxiously setting up for La Galette des Rois, which they were hosting this year.

"Maman," Hermione said, approaching the frazzled woman who was looking at several place settings. "Can I help you?"

"Oui, oui, oui, ma chérie. Which one is the best?" she said.

Hermione glanced at her mother and stifled a laugh at her disgruntled expression and tousled hair. "This one," she said pointing at one blindly.

"Parfait. Just what I was thinking as well! And darling, while you are here, help me with the seating chart."

"But there are only going to be eight of us."

"Ma chérie, non, non, non! They are still our guests a seating chart is necessary!" Irène chastised.

"Oui maman, d'accord," Hermione said, resigned to the fact that Irène was going to keep her planning the feast for the rest of the day.

She fell into bed several hours later, finally finished with preparations for the feast.

"That was horrible," she said to herself.

"You're telling me!" a small voice laughed.

"Aria?"

"The one and only," the impish faerie said, flying into view.

Hermione took one glance at the mischievous face of Aria and groaned. "I really don't have the time, nor energy to try and decode any half-answers you give me."

"How were holidays at the Malfoy's?" she said, ignoring Hermione.

"Perfectly peachy," she grumbled.

"You're His apprentice now, aren't you?"

Hermione glared at the little creature. "If you already knew, why did you ask?"

Aria shrugged. "Lady Marielle isn't going to be happy about this."

The witch snorted. "Oddly enough, I'm not too keen on the idea either."

"Just, be careful," the little faerie sighed.

"Don't you think I already know that! I'm already overwhelmed as it is trying to figure out all of this Lady stuff, and now I have Voldemort breathing down my back!"

The faerie patted Hermione on the back consolingly. "I know and I'm sorry I can't give you any more information."

Hermione sniffed and buried her face in a pillow.

"But," Aria said, realisation dawning on her face, "there might be something I can do to help."

"And pray tell, what might that be?" Hermione asked, her voice muffled by the pillow.

"I can spy for you. I am small enough that I can fit practically anywhere. Name the place and I will-"

"No Aria, I can't ask you to do that. First and foremost, you must be kept safe. I will figure something out," Hermione said.

"If you say so," Aria responded, not wanting to push the subject any further. "You should get some sleep."

Hermione nodded and dimmed the lights, pulling the curtains closed around her bed. "Goodnight Aria," she said.

 **{Murder at the Lachance Estate}**

The next day began much earlier than Hermione would have liked, and Asterix, as if by magic, appeared in Hermione's room to prepare her for the feast later that day. Naturally, the witch grumbled but allowed the house-elf to get her ready anyway. It wasn't worth fighting Irène about it anyway.

Speaking of Irène, she was running about the chateau trying to make sure everything was ready for La Galette des Rois. It put all parties involved on edge, but it was all worth it when, hours later, everything was perfect.

The Delacour's arrived, and the feast went off without a hitch. This year Louis got the crown and insisted that Hermione be the queen. She happily accepted and the families retired to a sitting room. Gabriel, Laurent, and Louis were playing a game of wizard's chess, discussing Gringotts, and Irène, Avelaine, and Apolline were arguing about dress robe styles for the next ball.

Not wanting to be a part of either conversation, Hermione joined Leon who was sitting by the fire.

"Now, what might you be thinking about?" she asked.

Leon flashed her an easy smile. "It has been a year since I met you."

Hermione smiled too. She'd been here for over a year already. It seemed preposterous. Absolutely preposterous.

"It would seem so," she said fondly, thinking back on all the memories she had made thus far.

A cheeky grin blossomed on Leon's face. "I say we celebrate it the way we did last year, non?" he said, offering her his hand.

She giggled and took it, allowing him to pull her into a jaunty dance.

"This is the best way to end a holiday!" Leon laughed.

Hermione agreed.

 **{Murder at the Lachance Estate}**

The first day of the new term did not go entirely as Hermione was expecting. It was rather chaotic, as most students were settling into a new dormitory, though she did decide to stay in dormitory seven at Louis's behest.

Hermione, meanwhile, was content to read in the library. Whilst she was at Malfoy Manor, everything she read was reported to Voldemort, so she was glad to have the freedom to choose freely again.

A lone figure dropped into the seat beside her and begun whispering so unintelligibly that Hermione had to strain her ears to hear him. His face was lowered and his back hunched.

"Mathis?" Hermoine whispered, placing her hand on his shoulder. "What is the matter?"

His chest heaved with inaudible sobs and his fists clenched together with such force that his nails cut into the delicate skin of his palms.

"He's dead."

"Who?"

The boy finally looked at Hermione, his lashes drenched in unshed tears.

"My father."

Hermione gasped in hushed tones, her hand flying up to cover her open mouth. "But I thought it was your mother that was ill?"

He nodded. "Yes, she is."

"Then…"

"He was murdered," Mathis said, his face falling expressionless.

Hermione stiffened, a horrible suspicion worming its way into her thoughts. "Mathis," she said urgently, "I need you to tell me more."

He glared at her. "Hermione!"

"I'm sorry, truly, I am, but this is important," she replied, grabbing his arm tightly.

Seeing the frantic look in her eyes, Mathis broke down and told her everything.

It was definitely the work of Voldemort, Hermione concluded when Mathis finished telling her everything.

She now had the boy in a tight hug and was rubbing soothing circles into his back while he cried.

It was odd, though. Voldemort was based in England, as were most of his followers. _Why would he be organizing attacks in France_?

A chilling realisation ran through Hermoine's veins. She was the one who caused this to happen. It was for her. Their last conversation ran through her mind.

" _Miss Lemercier," Voldemort said as she was leaving Malfoy Manor, "I have a special surprise waiting for you in France... consider it a late Christmas present for my favourite pupil."_

At the time, she was wondering what he meant but forgot about it as soon as she was back in France. She cursed. _So that is what he intended_.

Suddenly, another conversation came to her.

" _What is the price I am going to have to pay?"_

 _Imi sighed heavily, her shoulders drooping. "It is hard to say. Only the Powers can decide."_

Damn it. Damn Voldemort. Damn Imi. Damn the Powers that Be. It was their fault that this happened, Hermione was certain of it.

This wasn't going to be the end, Hermione knew. Oh no, this was just the beginning of an endless, vicious cycle.

"I promise Mathis, I promise to get vengeance for your father," she whispered silently to the sobbing boy.

 **{Murder at the Lachance}**

"Imi!" Hermione yelled, striding down the corridors of Avalon's Castle. "Imi!" she screamed again, hysterical.

"Hermione, what is it?" Marielle said worriedly, running to greet the girl in the corridor.

The wind outside the castle was whipping about unearthing trees, lightning was crackling ominously, thunder was booming, rain was coming down so hard and fast the drops were like tiny daggers, and the sea was so turbulent sprays of water were beginning to soak the walkway Hermione and Marielle were in on the fifth floor of the castle.

"Imi! Show yourself," Hermione shrieked again, an undercurrent of desperation bleeding through her tone.

"My dear, please!" Marielle said, glancing at the worsening conditions of the weather.

Hermione collapsed on the ground, allowing Marielle to hug her.

"There has been a death," Hermione finally said.

"But-"

"It was a murder, Marielle. He did it. For me," she said bitterly.

"You can't mean…"

She nodded.

What do you mean He did it _for you_?" another voice asked sharply. It was Morgana.

Hermione pulled from Marielle's grasp and stood up to face the woman. "I mean exactly that. He _murdered_ an innocent man. _For me_."

"Why?" Morgana demanded, her face contorting in anger, and a little bit of fear.

"Hermione…" Marielle whispered. "What happened while you were away?"

The girl sighed heavily. "It is a long story," she said, then proceeded to explain meeting him all the way up to her becoming his apprentice.

Neither woman said anything for a while after her confession, but twin expressions of despair overtook their features.

"We- we must go," Morgana eventually managed and strode briskly down the corridor once again, pulling Marielle with her.

Hermione sighed again and plopped on the floor, wrapping her arms around her knees.

"I'm impressed; you managed to scare both those imbeciles more than I could ever hope to myself," Imi said, stepping out of the shadows.

Hermione leapt to her feet and levelled her wand at the woman. "You!"  
"Indeed," the woman agreed and took a step toward the girl.

"This is your fault!"

"Perhaps," Imi said.

"No, not perhaps. It is your fault this happened!" Hermione argued.

"Even if it is, it does not change anything," Imi said levelly, keeping a calm expression.

"I hate you. I hate that I have to be the one to do this all," Hermione spat.

"You have a friend who felt the same way when people died."

Hermione gasped, "Harry…"

Imi nodded. "Yes, he always hated the deaths too and although you may blame me, deep inside you feel as though it is your fault that man died."

Hermione didn't deny it. Imi was right.

"He will not be the last one," Imi said.

"I know," Hermione replied. "It is going to become much worse."

"You cannot behave this way every time a person dies, my dear."

Hermione nodded. "I won't."

Imi smiled. "I believe there is a person who is very anxious to see you…"

"Bye Imi, until next time," Hermione said and raced down the corridors.

The weather outside had finally calmed down and Imi breathed a sigh of relief. The girl was more powerful then she knew.

 **{Murder at the Lachance Estate}**

"Louis!" Hermione gasped, out of breath from hurrying through the corridors of Beauxbatons.

"Where have you been?" he shrieked in a way oddly reminiscent of Molly Weasley.

She rolled her eyes. "Honestly, you remind me of-"but she never finished her sentence because he pulled her into a bone-crushing hug.

"You have been crying," he said simply.

Hermione gulped, "Yes, but I am fine now. Promise!"

"Next time you cry, please come to me first."

"I will!" Hermione agreed.

"Promise me," He said still clutching her.

"What? Louis?" she asked.

"Promise me!" he echoed and pulled away to look her in the eyes.

"Yes okay," Hermione said. "I promise."

He looked satisfied and completely let go of her. "You still haven't answered my question, though," he said, crossing his arms. "Where were you?"

"Merlin! I hope this isn't what I was like with Fred and George. It's no wonder I drove them mad!" Hermione said, mostly to herself.

"Excuse me?"

Hermione laughed and bound up the stairs to her room. "See you tomorrow Louis!"

 **{Murder at the Lachance Estate}**

Hello everyone, thank you for reading another chapter! I know that this one is shorter than normal by a few hundred words, but I felt as though this was a really great ending place.

Sincerely,

Miss of the Manor


	21. The Midsummer Scream

Months passed, Hermione turned twelve, Balls came and went (thankfully she never had to plan another one), and it was time for the students to sit their exams.

Everyone seemed to be doing fine, though Louis was a mess.

"I need to get near perfect scores on everything if I want to work with the International Confederation of Wizards," he mumbled over his Ancient Runes textbook.

He had been like that for weeks and it was decidedly annoying. Although Hermione was impressed by his work ethic, he was beginning to become grating.

"Louis, I understand better than anyone your desire to get perfect scores, but this madness needs to stop," Hermione said, trying to pry the book away from his hands.

"I have already received an offer from the French delicacy to apprentice under them. _I just need the scores_!" he said frantically, wrestling Hermione for the book.

"You haven't eaten in three days. I'm pretty certain you haven't even left the library in three days," Hermione replied flatly.

"Then bring me food here," he offered, still trying desperately to grapple the book from Hermione's hands.

"We both know that is against the Library's policy," Hermione huffed, and finally tugged the book from him. "Now, you are going to join me in the dining hall, then you are going to bathe. You smell terrible."

He sighed and allowed Hermione to pull him away from the library.

"Honestly Louis, you will be fine. You have had the best scores out of everyone for ages."

He didn't say anything, and Hermione continued to berate him for not taking care of himself.

When she was certain the boy had eaten enough and was well on his way toward a bathroom, her thoughts flashed to Harry and Ron telling her similar things when she was preparing for her O.W.L's. Dear Merlin, she and Louis had a lot in common.

She herself went back to the library to study for her exams, though she wasn't truly worried about them. It was basic magic.

"You have finally gotten him away," Apolline said, relieved that her brother had taken time to eat. "He always had been a bit of a diehard when it comes to studying."

"You don't say," Hermione said dryly.

The half veela laughed. "Last year it took me a whole five days to get him away from the library long enough to bathe. I had to resort bringing him food."

Hermione tsked. "He really should know better!"

Just then, the Librarian came over and shushed them. The two girls glanced at each other and settled into their books to study.

After a moment Apolline whispered, "Hermione, I know Louis has always been a great ally to you, and I would like to pledge my loyalty as well."

"What?"

The girl sighed, "You know, when my mother first told me about the Lady, I didn't believe her. In fact, when you showed up at our Chateau for La Galette des Rois I was very suspicious of you."

"What changed?"

"I found you asleep in the corridor, soaking wet," Apolline admitted. "I had a dream earlier that night about a palace full of people like you."

"What do you mean, like me?" Hermione asked.

"Ladies. They were all Ladies, and you were among them. I Saw you in the corridor, shivering, after that. Then, I woke up and went to search for you."

"Is everyone in your family a Seer?" Hermione complained jokingly.

Apolline smiled. "Well, I'm quite certain my father isn't if that makes you feel any better."

"Loads," she replied sarcastically.

Apolline became solemn again, "But I am serious, I am on your side. If there is anything I can do to help, just say the word."

"I will, thank you Apolline."

She smiled and the girls went back to reading quietly. Louis joined them nearly an hour later, his eyes entirely bloodshot, but freshly bathed.

"Just one more chapter," he insisted.

The girls sighed- it was going to be a long night.

 **{The Midsummer Scream}**

Hermione yawned and stretched, as she walked out the doors of the Charms classroom. It was her last exam of the term and she was ready to lay back and relax. Amélie was finished as well and the two girls decided to take a walk around the grounds.

"It really has been a lovely year," Amélie sighed, soaking up the warm rays of the sun.

Hermione agreed for the most part. Etiquette classes, she could do without, and she could handle fewer Balls, and there was that one time Voldemort showed up at the school, but other than that, it was indeed 'lovely'.

"What are you doing for the Holiday?" Amélie asked.

Hermione's face darkened. "I will be spending the first half in Wiltshire with the Malfoys. I'm not too sure after that."

The brunette gasped, "Oh! I am so envious! That cousin of yours is simply charming."

Hermione agreed Lucius was a very interesting conversationalist and other than his bigoted tendencies, he was overall a gentleman. She wished she could say the same for the company he kept. His father wasn't too pleasant either.

"Perhaps I could invite you over one day, I'm sure you and Cissy would really hit it off," Hermione said.

"Who is Cissy?" she asked.

"Narcissa Black. She is one of Lucius's friends."

"Oh," Amélie replied, frowning."

Hermione brushed off the girl's pout, and said, "I will owl you the details."

"Brillant!" she said, chipper again.

The girls walked for a little longer before rounding back to the school. Leon, Mathis and surprisingly Elias, Amélie's bother, were waiting for them in a lounge.

Mathis, for having only lost his father six months ago, was doing very well. Hermione suspected Leon had a lot to do with it, as the boy was the best distraction anyone could ask for. He could also be surprisingly understanding when the time called for it.

Elias was another surprise. When everyone came back from the term, he was very friendly and seemed to be interested in forming a friendship with the group. Hermione was hesitant at first but she eventually opened up. He was rather intelligent, but most of all, he had an innate knack for reigning in Amélie and Leon when they got a bit… over-excited.

"Salut, boys!" Amélie greeted.

"Amélie, Hermione! How did your Charms exam go?" Leon asked.

"It went about as well as I thought it would go," Hermione responded.

"Please, you are a genius, you likely got an O," Amélie responded.

"You're not a slouch either, Amélie," Mathis said. "In fact, I think Transfiguration is the only subject you perform better in than Charms."

The girl smirked. "I do love transfiguring my clothing."

"What about you lot?" Hermione asked.

"I think I did well, though I had a bit of trouble making the pineapple dance," Mathis said.

"At least you could get yours to dance!" Leon moaned.

"I take it yours didn't go well?" Hermione questioned.

He huffed and crossed his arms.

"Don't worry Leon, I will help you study next year," Elias said.

"That would be wonderful. I always feel like a dunce when I study with Hermione," Leon pouted.

Hermione only grinned. "Speaking of exams, you had your History of Magic one today, didn't you Elias?"

He nodded. "Yes, it was a piece of cake, though that might have something to do with the fact that it was mostly about goblins."

"Figures," Leon grumbled. "Your family has been working with goblins for centuries."

"Don't worry Leon, I'm sure when we take Care of Magical Creatures you will be a natural!" Amélie said.

"She's right mate, you are part bird after all," Mathis agreed.

"I resent that," the aforementioned bird-boy pouted.

"I literally found a feather in my orange juice the other day," Elias said.

The boy flushed. "Sorry?"

 **{The Midsummer Scream}**

"Ma chérie, do you have everything ready to go?" Iréne called through Hermione's door.

"Oui, maman!" she yelled back. "One moment!"

Hermione placed one last book in her trunk and hastily closed it. They really need to be at the ministry in a few minutes and she was the only one that wasn't entirely ready.

"Hermione, please, be careful?" Aria's lilting voice pled.

She sighed. "Of course."

"Marielle taught you a spell awhile ago… use it if you need to contact me."

Hermione nodded her head, then bolted out the door with her luggage. "Bye Aria, wish me luck!"

 **{The Midsummer Scream}**

Malfoy Manor was imposing as ever and Hermione could not wait to go back to France already. Lucius greeted her at the door and ushered her to her rooms. There were the same as before and as soon as her cousin left, she wasted no time in hiding her possessions in the wall.

Just as quickly as she had settled, Abraxas informed her that a certain guest was requesting her presence. She held in a sigh and followed the man anyway. Much to her detestation, Voldemort greeted her in the library and gestured for her to sit on the seat across from him.

"Lady Lemercier, It is wonderful to see you again. I trust your school year was pleasant? He said politely, though it only put Hermione on edge.

"Yes, very," she said, holding her head up high, trying to appear haughty. "I received all O's in every subject."

"Very good. And I presume that you have still been improving your… _other_ studies as well?"

"I suppose you shall be the judge of that, my Lord," she said in deference.

He smiled at her, apparently very pleased."Precisely. Let's discuss what you thought of _The Imperious Curse and How to Abuse It_."

"It was very… enlightening."

"Do you perhaps feel _enlightened_ enough to try it in practicum?" he suggested.

Hermione froze. "But- my wand. Won't it show the curses I have used?"

He smirked and motioned for her to give him her wand. She hesitated but did so anyway. He cast a spell upon it and returned it to her.

"You'll find your wand to be untraceable now.

She smiled tightly. "Thank you, my lord.

He smiled and nodded at her. "Flopsy!" he yelled.

"Yes master," a house-elf said.

"Bring Abraxas here."

"Yes, Master," she said and popped away. Moments later she appeared again with the man Voldemort requested.

"My Lord," the man said, bowing

"Now, my dear, cast it," Voldemort ordered.

Hermione rose her eyebrows at Voldemort's choice of victim but complied anyway.

"Imperio!"

Abraxas's eyes glazed over and became unfocused.

Hermione glanced over at Voldemort to see his reaction. She really wished she hadn't when she saw his glowing red eyes and maniacal smile.

"Perfect! Give him a command." Voldemort ordered.

Hermione paused, thinking for a moment, but a grin slowly overtook her face.

"Abraxas," she said, "Show me your best impersonation of a peacock."

He immediately started strutting around the library, occasionally flailing his arms about to imitate the tail feathers of the aforementioned animal.

Hermione would have felt terrible about using an unforgivable on any other occasion, but today, she couldn't muster the will to care. She wasn't causing any harm, except for maybe Abraxas's pride, but that really could use a blow. She allowed the man to strut for a moment longer, then released the spell.

He glared dirtily at Hermione but stopped when Voldemort dismissed him.

"Very good, Miss Lemercier. You are a fast learner," he commented.

She snorted a little. "It would be harder if my target had a stronger will."

"Oh?" Voldemort said, his interest piqued.

Hermione cursed internally. She had messed up.

"Do tell me Miss Lemercier, have you cast the Imperious before?"

"Non!" she said hastily, "I had merely looked up ways to avoid the effects of the curse. I was curious!"

Hermione prayed he would believe her lie. It was true that she had never cast the Imperious previous to now, and it was technically true that she had researched techniques to throw off the curse, but…

"I see," he said, his eyes glinting with an emotion Hermione could not place.

She smiled at him hesitantly.

"I suppose that shall be all for today," he said after a moment. "But be prepared to take about the Cruciatus tomorrow."

Hermione curtsied, recognizing her dismissal, and strode out of the library.

She bumped into Lucius in the corridor.

"Ah, Cousin! Narcissa will simply be delighted to see you here," he said.

Hermione groaned. First, it was Voldemort and now Narcissa? She had half a mind to turn back to the Library and beg Voldemort to teach her more about the Imperious but allowed Lucius to drag her to an unknown destination.

"Lucius, I am actually a bit tired from all the travel, perhaps it would be best for me to go back to my chambers?" Hermione tried.

"Nonsense. We shan't keep you long," he replied.

Hermione paled in horror when she realized his destination.

"Cousin, really," she said, tugging her arm away from him. "I am feeling unwell!"

"Hermione calm down, just say hello to everyone then you can leave."

She pulled away harder, but Lucius was too strong. He pulled her through the doorway into the drawing-room where she was tortured a short few years ago.

She froze upon seeing the room, then gripped his arm tightly. "Lucius…" she mumbled, growing faint. The last thing she saw was his panicked face, then everything went dark.

 **{The Midsummer Scream}**

" _How did you get into my vaults?" Bellatrix screamed, slapping Hermione across the face._

" _I was never in your vaults!" Hermione insisted._

" _Liar! Crucio!"_

 _She writhed on the ground in pure agony, feeling as though thousands of searing knives were stabbing her repeatedly. Screams echoed through the drawing-room._

" _Please," Hermione begged, tears streaming down her face when the woman ended the curse._

" _What else did you take from my vaults?" Bellatrix hissed from atop Hermione._

" _Nothing, I swear it!"_

" _Crucio!"_

 _Terrible screams erupted from her throat._

" _What did you take from my vaults!" Bellatrix tried again._

 _Hermione sobbed, barely able to push words through her sore throat, "Nothing…"_

" _Fine," the woman said, reaching into her robes to pull out a knife. "If the mudblood won't tell me…"_

 _Hermione thrashed violently under Bellatrix when the knife first touched her skin. Piercing screams echoed through the ornate room. After every letter that was carved into Hermione's skin, Bellatrix would ask what else was taken from her vaults. Each time, Hermione would answer, "Nothing."_

 _It seemed like hours that Bellatrix was sitting over Hermione, carving into her skin, but finally, it was over, and the girl was left lying there shaking on the ground, her arm bleeding, and tears leaking out of her eyes._

Someone was shaking her. "Cousin, Cousin? Hermione?"

Her eyes flew open. She was back in her room, she noted with relief. Lucius seemed relived too if the way he loosened his grip on her hand was anything to go by.

"What is going on," she rasped, trying to sit up.

He shook his head. "You fainted."

"Thank you, Lucius," she said dryly, "I hadn't noticed.

He threw his hands up in the air. "You're impossible."

She glared at him and swung her legs over the bed. "I did tell you I wasn't feeling well."

"Yes, I remember, it was only an hour ago," he said. "I've already called for a healer."

She grimaced and stood up, intent on walking.

Lucius panicked and guided Hermione back to the bed to lay down. "You shouldn't be moving."

Hermione rolled her eyes. He sounded like Louis.

"I saw that," he said. "Besides, Aunt Irène would have my head if she knew I let you out of bed."

Hermione scoffed.

"I'm serious," he said, glaring at her. "Now, don't move."

She huffed but listened to him anyway.

He took a seat on a chair that was placed beside her bed. "What happened?"

She bit her lip and picked at a loose thread on the duvet. "I'm not entirely sure," she lied.

"If you say so."

"Mon Chérie!" Irène exclaimed when she arrived and pulled Hermione into a tight hug.

"Bonjour, maman."

"The healer is here. Thank you for watching over her Lucius."

The boy nodded and walked past the healer who was coming in the room.

"Miss Lemercier," the man said, "Your mother has informed me of what happened. I am going to cast some diagnostic spells, is that alright?"

Hermione nodded.

He wasted no time and begun casting. "Have you had any other symptoms before the accident?"

Hermione shook her head. "None at all."

He frowned. "Are you certain, Miss Lemercier?"

"Positive," Hermione huffed, crossing her arms.

His frown deepened. "Madame Lemercier, if you will," he said gesturing to the door.

Irène nodded and followed the man out the door.

Hermione bristled at being left out of the conversation but resolved herself to ask Irène what was going on when she came back.

The aforementioned woman came back a second later, a small frown on her lips.

"What happened?"

"You have a high fever."

"Is that all?" Hermione asked, incredulous.

Irène hesitated. "The doctor is worried that you collapsed for no apparent reason."

Just then Laurent entered the room. "The healer has just informed me. Are you all right Ma Fée?"

She rolled her eyes again. "Oui papa."

"Good," he said and moved to stand beside his wife.

"Hermione darling, "Irène asked hesitantly, "Is there something you haven't told us?"

Laurent nodded and put his arm around the beautiful blonde.

Hermione glanced at the slightly ajar door. Laurent seemed to get the message and spelled it closed, casting a silencing charm.

She began fidgeting and looking anywhere but the two figures in the room. "It happened while I was on the run…"

They both nodded in understanding.

"You remember that I told you my _friends_ and I were captured…" She continued when the nodded their heads again. "I was tortured for information."

Irène gasped quietly and Laurent's hands curled into tightly balled fists.

"I was taken here," she continued. "In the drawing-room, specifically," she finished lamely and unable to look at them. "I suppose my mind and body are still not able to face that room."

"Hermione…" Irène said brokenly, kneeling down beside her bed. "I'm so sorry if I had known I-"

"No, let's not go there," Hermione said harshly, rubbing her forearm. "It happened and nothing will change that."

Irène nodded, her eyes downcast.

"I am grateful to the both of you for what you have done," Hermione said, finally looking at them.

Laurent patted her on the back gently. "Let us know how we can help you more."

Hermione nodded affirmatively and accepted a hug from both of them. They wished her well and left her to sleep.

Later that night, Laurent came back to check on her. "I know there is more that you are not telling us, and," he said before Hermione could protest, "I respect your boundaries, but Irène and I are your parents now. If there is any way to get retribution for you, let me know."

"Oh don't worry," she said, rubbing her forearm again, "I have it all handled."

He raised an eyebrow at her but said nothing.

"Sleep well, papa," she said sweetly.

 **{The Midsummer Scream}**

Narcissa came to visit Hermione first thing the next morning.

"Oh my Merlin, Hermione, you gave us quite the scare," she said plopping down on the seat next to the bed.

She cringed. She was hoping to avoid speaking to Narcissa for another day, at least. "I'm sorry?"

"Yes, you'd better be!" she said, now going about the room placing fresh flowers on every surface she could.

"Narcissa," Hermione said startling the girl from her decorating.

"Yes?"

"Could you help me to the desk? I need to write a letter."

"Yes of course!"

Hermione smiled in thanks.

"Who are you writing to?" She asked after a moment.

"My friend, Amélie Caspari. She is dying to visit."

"Caspari? As in the Gringotts Casparis?"

"The one and only," Hermione confirmed.

Narcissa arched a delicate eyebrow. "Interesting."

Hermione ignored her though. After writing the letter she gave it to Asterix (who had come along for the summer) to owl it.

"Your mother tells me you to spend the rest of the day in here, so I have brought just the thing to pass time!" Narcissa exclaimed and pulled a stack of Witch Weekly magazines from her bag.

Hermione grimaced. It was going to be a long day.

 **{The Midsummer Scream}**

Thank you for reading another chapter! I really appreciate you.

Sincerely,

Miss of the Manor


	22. Web of Wyrd

Hermione was halfway done with her visit to Malfoy Manor, and she couldn't be more pleased. She was almost finished with having to deal with the madness that surrounded Voldemort like flies to rot.

Today was also the day that Amélie was coming to begin her stay with Hermione.

"Bonjour, mon amie!" Amélie said, kissing both Hermione's cheeks.

"Oui, salut!" Hermione replied, genuinely glad to see the girl.

"The grounds here are astounding, almost as wonderful as Beauxbatons…"

Hermione grinned. "I'm sure Lady Malfoy will be pleased to hear that."

Just then, Lucius came strolling into the receiving room. "Lady, Caspari," he said in perfect French, "It is wonderful seeing you again."

Amélie giggled, and placed a hand in his, "You as well, Lord Malfoy. Your Manor is simply stunning," she replied in English.

His eyes flashed in approval. "Your English is quite impressive, my Lady. Please, follow me to your room."

Amélie sighed dreamily and Hermione rolled her eyes. Lucius was such a flirt, especially for someone that would likely be betrothed to Narcissa soon, if he wasn't already, that is.

Lucius left the two girls again when they got to the room, but told them he would be entertaining guests in the parlour should they like to join him. Hermione wasn't too keen on dealing with Lucius's 'friends' at the moment, but she knew Amélie would never let her hear the end of it if they didn't go.

So, the two girls finished up in the room and made their way over to the parlour.

Amélie was looking around the house with wide eyes, most likely thinking about the kinds of things she would be able to do if she were the Lady of the Manor.

"Lady Caspari, Cousin, I'm glad you could make it," Lucius said, standing up to greet the girls.

Hermione rolled her eyes at his bravado and sat down. Amélie blushed prettily and let him take her hand and place a kiss upon it while Narcissa glared beside Hermione on the couch.

"Lady Caspari," Narcissa said politely, belying the jealousy in her eyes, "It is lovely to meet you."

Amélie curtsied at the girl, smiling slyly. "You must be Lady Black. Hermione has told me many great things about you.

Narcissa arched an eyebrow. "I'll look forward to getting to know you, Lady Caspari."

"Please, it is Amélie."

"Narcissa, then."

Hermione watched the exchange with humour. Once both of the girls stopped competing over Lucius, they would be the best of friends, she was certain of it.

Introductions were made around the room, and before long, Amélie had assimilated properly into the group. She and Narcissa, like predicted, got along famously, all it took was a gentle nudge from Hermione. Apparently, they both agreed that St. John's Wort and Pumpkin flowers were très gauche to use as arrangements during a ball.

The boys, meanwhile, were discussing quidditch. Wanting to take no part in _that_ conversation, Hermione decided to simply think.

Voldemort had been especially quiet the past few days and hadn't called on her at all. Normally, Hermione would have been pleased, but currently, it was rather worrisome. At least when she was with him, she knew where he was, and to a certain extent- what he was planning. Not knowing anything was deeply unsettling.

She was also worried about Mathis and his mother. She knew with dubious certainty that it was Voldemort who orchestrated the attack on their family and she wanted to know why. Yes, it could have been to teach Hermione a lesson, but for some reason, she doubted that. There really wasn't any way for him to know who she familiarized herself with unless…

Her breath caught in her throat. Unless there was a spy at Beauxbatons.

Hermione reminded herself that wasn't likely, but the only other reasonable explanation is that he chose randomly, and that wasn't his style, not in this time period, at least.

"Hermione, darling," Narcissa drawled.

She startled. "Yes?"

"Would you like to go as well?"

"Pardon?"

Amélie and Narcissa sighed in unison.

"Have you found she does this often," the English girl asked.

Amélie nodded. "Unfortunately."

They gave each other knowing looks.

"Shopping, Hermione. We are going shopping," Narcissa finally said.

She scrunched her nose up in distaste. "I don't really have much of a choice, do I?"

Amélie grinned. "I'm afraid not. Let's go grab our cloaks. We have already had a house-elf inform your mother."

"Is anyone else coming with us?" she asked.

"Yes, I believe the boys wanted to look at quidditch supplies," Narcissa responded.

Hermione heaved a sigh and allowed the girls to drag her to Diagon Alley. Unlike Irène, the girls would not let her just wander off to Flourish and Blotts.

"Let's all meet at the Leaky Cauldron," Narcissa said.

Hermione agreed and went through first. She stepped out of the fireplace and into the rather dusty establishment, glancing around. It was almost exactly as she remembered it. Waves of nostalgia ran through Hermione.

"C'est top ici," Amélie sighed dreamily, gazing to the bustling street outside.

Hermione smiled wistfully. "Oui."

Just then, Narcissa stepped out of the Floo, the rest of the group following shortly thereafter. She scrunched up her nose in distaste and held her head a little higher.

"It is filthy as ever in here, let's get out, quickly," Narcissa said, ushering the girls toward the back of the bar and into the alleyway.

Amélie gasped again when she saw the street before her. Certainly, it was a magnificent sight (though Hermione suspected the girl only liked it because it was new to her, not because she thought was better than La Rue de Épanoui).

"Over here, Hermione, Amélie," she said, gesturing to a much cleaner part of the street that Hermione knew contained only the most expensive stores. They were rather exclusive in who they would even let in.

"Where would you like to go first?" Narcissa asked.

Hermione shrugged, not particularly caring. Or rather, she desperately wanted to go to a bookstore but knew the girls would never let her.

Amélie started talking about shoes and Narcissa led the way to her favourite store. Hermione wasn't paying much attention to them, as her concentration was caught by a rather odd-looking building to her left. The other two girls, so immersed in their conversation, didn't notice her slip away to get a better look.

It was full of oddities, she noticed looking through the dingy windows. Hesitantly she opened the door, a little bell rattling behind her.

"How peculiar," she said to no one in particular.

The store was just as grimey as it looked from the outside.

"Hello?" Hermione called.

Still, no one came out to greet her. She stepped a bit further into the shop, eyeing possible escape routes. Other than door and windows, there didn't seem to be any obvious exits. She bit her lip and gripped her wand so hard her knuckles turned white. She ventured into the dingy store, glancing at the shelves, though she remained alert the whole time.

A bookshelf to the left caught her attention. Upon its highest shelf, lay a tarnished silver necklace. Entranced by its beauty, she peered closer at the delicate piece of jewellery. It was small; the pendant was barely the size of her largest fingernail. Embossed upon it was a rune that was oddly familiar, though she couldn't quite place where she had seen it before.

"It calls to you."

Fear flashed hotly through Hermione as she whipped around to jab her wand in the direction of the speaker.

An old man whose white hair stuck up in every direction stood there, smiling at her. "I mean you no harm. The necklace," he said, shifting his focus to the pendent behind her, "It calls to you."  
She held her wand higher.

"I cannot tell you more, my dear, that would be a violation of our agreement."

"Agreement," she finally said, "We have no agreement."

He tilted his head. "No, perhaps not yet."

She glared at him.

"The necklace," said again, "It is yours. It calls to you."

Hermione shook her head, her wand still levelled at the man. "I'm sorry that just cannot be true. I shall take my leave now," she said and hurried over to the exit.

"You can run from it all you like, but it will always find you," he called out to her as she was leaving.

Hermione heard his warning, though she didn't pay it any heed. She was thoroughly shaken up and just wanted to find Narcissa and Amélie and get back to the manor. Luckily for her, she found the girls walking outside of a shoe store, chatting happily. She rejoined them and after feeding them some excuses as to why she left them, they continued their spree. Hermione quickly forgot about her strange interaction with the man in the dusty shop and lost herself in a haze of fabrics.

By the end of the day, all three girls returned to the manor laden with their purchases. Narcissa said her goodbyes and Amélie and Hermione retired to their suites.

Hermione began putting her new items away and wound down for sleep. As she walked over to the vanity to brush out her curls, she saw it- the tarnished necklace from earlier.

A gasp left her throat as she stumbled backwards, falling to the floor with a loud thud.

"How-"

A knock on her door cut her off.

"Hermione! Are you alright?" A concerned Lucius said.

"I'm fine. I just lost my balance is all!" she said back, the lie flowing easily.

"Do you need me to com-"

"I certainly do not!" she said before he could finish. "Just go back to your room."

"If you are cer-"

"Yes!"

She didn't pick herself up until she could no longer hear his footsteps.

She went to the vanity again and looked at the pendant.

"Why?" she whispered to it. "Why are you tormenting me?"

The necklace must have a dark sense of humour, Hermione later decided, because at that moment it seemed to wink at her. Well, as much as a necklace could wink, that is.

"No matter then, I have the perfect place for you," Hermione muttered to herself, picking up the necklace and taking measured steps toward the balcony at the other end of the room. Throwing open the door, she tossed the pendent as far as she possibly could. She watched in satisfaction as it disappeared into the inky night.

Only moments later, it came flying back, travelling so quickly she could hear it whistling through the air.

"Wha-," but she never had the opportunity to finish, as the necklace smacked into her chest and fell beside her feet.

She grumbled and tried to dispose of it again and again, but each and every time it managed to find its way back to her. Eventually, she gave up for the night and fell into an uneasy slumber.

Over the next few days in Malfoy Manor, Hermione would try her best to rid herself of the accursed object, but to no avail. It was when the necklace appeared in the library while she was with Voldemort that she decided she had enough. She marched back to her rooms, muttering an excuse to his Lordship, and flung the pendent on the bed.

"I don't want to put you on," she said to the necklace as she stood by the foot of the bed, her arms crossed, stubbornly. "I will not put you on," she continued. "I don't know what you are or what you do! Putting you on would be irresponsible!"

She laughed then, doubling over and clutching her stomach, realising just how mad she sounded. She was standing at the foot of a bad, talking to a _necklace_ of all things. The laughter stopped suddenly as she began thinking. She couldn't put the necklace on, no, that wouldn't be safe, not while she didn't know what it was, but she also couldn't get rid of it.

She paced the room, running through idea after idea, but not thinking of one she was satisfied with. She could always keep the necklace in her pocket, but there was no guarantee that it would stay there, and she didn't want any more incidents like today. Her beaded bag would have to do, she decided. There was no better way to keep it. She would just need to be hypervigilant in ensuring that it stayed in the bag.

The following days, she kept an eye out for the necklace, but it seemed to stay put in her bag as if sensing that she wasn't trying to rid herself of it any longer.

Amélie had left only three days ago, and thankfully, it was also time for Hermione to return to France for the rest of the summer holiday. She bid farewell to Voldemort, who instructed her to continue her studies in the Dark Arts, which he would continue to mentor her in when she returned over the winter holidays. After speaking with him, Hermione made her way to the Floo where Lucius and her parents were waiting to leave.

"Dearest cousin, you must write to me more often. You have seen for yourself the boorish intellect of the people I call friends."

Hermione rolled her eyes, but let an amused smile play about her lips. "Yes, of course, Lucius, I wouldn't want your ego to become too inflated with all the fawning your 'friends' lavish you with."

"I shall eagerly await your next visit," she said, bowing to an absurd degree, extending his hand outwards with a flourish.

She placed her hand in his and curtsied just as low. "Of course you shall, I would expect no less," she replied in the snootiest tone she could manage.

He smirked. "I was rather serious about writing to me, cousin, _I_ would like to hear from you more often."

She promised and stepped through the floo, waving to him as the green flames consumed her.

{Web of Wyrd}

Hermione lived up to her promise, writing to Lucius at least three times every day, much to his consternation. She giggled just thinking about it. After she got back from the Manor, her summer holidays had been much less stressful, and they passed quickly. It was already two weeks until the next term began at Beauxbatons, and Hermione couldn't help but be excited to start school again.

She was also anxious to see Mathis. She wanted to ask him about the death of his father more. The more that Hermione contemplated it and the events surrounding it, the less she suspected Voldemort was behind it; it was, however, replaced with an ever-growing sense that _something_ else had a part to play in the murder.

Hermione didn't have much to do today, although she did get a package from the school assigning her a task for the opening ceremony this year. She was to be a baton twirler, and enclosed in the package was her baton, already charmed, and a magical book, depicting the routine she would need to have perfected by the start of term. She groaned when she saw it. She would much rather be doing something that didn't involve her performing in any way.

She got to work, practising the routine over and over again, stopping only to refresh herself. Around noon, a few hours later, an owl began tapping at her window. Hermione's face lit up when she saw it- rusty brown feathers and a white face- it was Louis bird, Marquis.

"Bonjour, Marquis," she said, brushing her fingers lightly over his feathers before grabbing a treat for him. "Thank you for delivering this."

He hooted softly.

"I suppose you are waiting for a reply?"

He hooted again.

She nodded and opened the letter.

 _Dear Hermione,_

 _I have rather troubling news I think you must hear. Are you available at 3:30 for tea? Sorry for the short notice, I only found out this morning. If you are available, let's meet at my Manor._

 _Sincerely Yours,_

 _Louis Delacour_

She frowned. She was going to try and find Marielle's library again this afternoon, as a reward for training earlier today. But it sounded like it was an emergency, so…

She penned a quick reply and gave the note to Marquis who hooted a goodbye and flew out the still open window.

Hermione couldn't help but wonder what might cause such a brief and worrisome message from Louis. Something horrific had to be happening, or else he would have planned something for at least a week later. He wasn't a very spontaneous person and this seemed very out of his character.

At precisely 3:30 Hermione flooed to Delacour Manor, where Louis was anxiously pacing in front of the fireplace.

"Excellent, you have arrived. Let's go to the parlour," he said, forgoing all proper greetings, opting instead to lead her down the corridor into a powder-blue room, where tea was already set.

"Explain," Hermione said, getting straight to the point once they had sat down.

He clenched his hands together, rubbing them anxiously. "You remember last year when Monsieur Lanchance was killed?"

She grimaced and nodded. How could she forget?

"The International Federation of Wizards has found evidence that his death is one in a chain of many murders."

Hermione went cold. "There have been more?"

He nodded, "I'm afraid so."

"How," she asked.

"That's the strange thing- there hasn't been any indication of _anything_ , not even the killing curse. There seems to be no intent behind the murders either, they just seem to be happening," he explained, looking out the window, watching something only he could see. "It's as if- as if magic is trying to punish us," he finally said, meeting her gaze again.

Hermione frowned. "That doesn't make any sense. Why would magic be _punishing_ magicals?"

Louis shrugged. "I don't know. But there is another thing you should know…"

Hermione tensed. "Continue."

"This has been happening for the past 100 years. Whoever or whatever is doing this has been at it for a while."

"That can't be possible!" Hermione said as she slammed her hands on the table causing the porcelain china to rattle a bit.

"I've found that anything seems to be possible with magic," he said, strangely, sending her a pointed look.

She glared back. "There has to be another explanation," she insisted.

"We both know there is not."

She growled and threw the chair back in favour of pacing the room.

"I cannot do this anymore, Louis! I don't understand why I was chosen."

He stayed silent.

"I already dealt with a war in my original time, and now I am fighting it again, but everything keeps getting more and more complicated! This isn't just about Voldemort anymore; it isn't just about saving my friends anymore. The entire safety of the magical world as we know it as resting on my shoulders and I cannot do it anymore!" she cried hysterically, tears dripping down her face.

"You have to!" he said, grabbing her shoulders and forcing her to look at him. "It isn't fair; nothing is, but you have to do this. You are the only one who can."

"I know," she said bitterly, interrupting him. "I already know that."

"But you do not have to do it alone! Let me help you! Let Apolline help you! Let the Lemerciers help you! Let us in, Hermione!" he shouted.

She shook her head, "No, Louis, the path I am on is a lonely one, and I cannot let you follow me."

He started at her in disbelief, hurt lacing his expression.

She shook his hands off her shoulders. "Thank you for the information, I should be leaving now."

He stared at the spot she vacated long after she left it.

"She is so dense sometimes," he said, shaking his head."So dense."

{Web of Wyrd}

When Hermione returned to the Lemercier Manor, she stomped back to her chambers and prepared her beaded bag for a trip through the mountains to search for Marielle's Library so she could conduct some research on the strange necklace that she couldn't get rid of (despite her trying with all her might). She had already asked Aria about the rune, but the faerie was drawing blanks as well, though she did suggest going to visit Marielle in person. For a reason Hermione couldn't explain, she felt as though telling Marielle about the necklace would be a bad idea, so she only smiled non-committedly to the faerie and continued to pack her bag.

She finished and ventured off to tell Irène that she would be gone for the rest of the week and that she could expect to see Hermione again Sunday evening in time for supper.

"Absolutely not," Irène said.

Hermione stared at the woman.

"You are not going to go into the woods, looking for a library, alone, might I add, and then not come home for the rest of the week."

Hermione shook her head, "I appreciate your concern, but this is of the utmost importance and I must go there.

Irène just shook her head. "No. You will not be leaving this manor."

"Please, be reasonable. This is very important," Hermione tried again.

The woman sighed. "Hermione, I know you are in a very precarious and stressful situation right now, but I feel as though you may be burning bridges that could save you down the road."

Hermione tensed and looked at her with accusing eyes. "Louis contacted you, didn't he?"

"He did not," she replied, raising an eyebrow, "I only noticed that you seemed especially testy since coming back from my brother's manor."

Hermione glared at the woman. "This isn't important right now. I really need to leave for the rest of the week."

Irène's eyes softened as she pulled the girl into a hug. "I know, but darling, you need to let others support you more than ever. Let us help."

Hermione wrenched herself from the older woman's grip. "I shall see you Saturday evening, then."

Irène knew she was fighting a losing battle and allowed the girl to leave in a rush, a small tear running down her cheek.

Laurent stepped out of the shadows and wrapped his arms around his wife in a snug embrace.

"Though she is an adult, she still reminds me so much of a child," he sighed, pecking her temple.

{Web of Wyrd}

Hello all, I am terribly sorry that I have neglected to post for awhile, I have been rather preoccupied with uni. Luckily, I have been managing to squeeze in a few minutes of writing each week, and after months of this, I can finally present to you all the next chapter of Wishing Upon a Golden Glow. I hope that you all enjoy this chapter. In the next one Hermione will be returning to school. I won't make any promises as to when that will be posted, but I will try to have it up within the next month. I hope everyone has an excellent 2020!

Sincerely,

Miss of the Manor


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